UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


HOME  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
OF  MODERN  KNOWLEDGE 

No.  21 


Editors: 
THE  RT.  HON.  H.  A.  L.  FISHER, 

M.A.,  F.B.A. 
PROF.  GILBERT  MURRAY,  Lirr.D., 

LL.D.,  F.B.A. 
PROF.  SIR  J.  ARTHUR  THOMSON, 

M.A. 
PROF.  WILLIAM  T.  BREWSTER, 

M.A. 


A  complete  classified  list  of  the  volumes  of  THE 
HOME  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY  already  published 
will  be  found  at  the  back  of  this  book. 


INTRODUCTION 
TO   SCIENCE 

BY 

J.  ARTHUR   THOMSON 

REGIUS    PROFESSOR   OF   NATURAL   HISTORY,    ABERDEEN 

UNIVERSITY 

AUTHOR    OF    "  DARWINISM   AND  HUMAN  LIFE  ;  "    "  HEREDITY;  " 
"  THE  BIOLOGY  OF  THE  SEASONS  J  "   "  HERBERT  SPENCER  ;  " 

"THE  SCIENCE  OF  LIFE  ;  "  "THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCIENCE 
IN  THE  CENTURY;"  "THE  STUDY  OF  ANIMAL  LIFE;" 

"  OUTLINES  OF  ZOOLOGY  ;  "  "  THE  NATURAL 
HISTORY    OF   THE    YEAR*' 

Joint  author  of  "TAe  Evolution  of  Sex  "  and  "Evolution  " 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

LONDON 
THORNTON    BUTTERWORTH   LTD. 


COPYRIGHT,  1911, 

BY 

:JENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


CONTENTS 


-       CHAP. 

I     THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  .........  7 

II     THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE    .........  35 

•*        III     SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  ..........  57 

IV     CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES      .....  81 

^^\     SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY  ........  124 

VI     SCIENCE  AND  ART     ..........  166 

£V>  VII     SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION  .........  192 

en 

VIII     THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE  ........  224 

REFERENCES  TO  BOOKS  .........  251 

INDEX                                                                           .  255 


INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   SCIENTIFIC  MOOD 

"For  myself  I  found  that  I  was  fitted  for  noth- 
ing so  well  as  for  the  study  of  Truth;  as  having 
a  mind  nimble  and  versatile  enough  to  catch  the 
resemblance  of  things  (which  is  the  chief  point), 
and  at  the  same  time  steady  enough  to  fix  and 
distinguish  their  subtler  differences;  as  being 
gifted  by  nature  with  desire  to  seek,  patience  to 
doubt,  fondness  to  meditate,  slowness  to  assert, 
readiness  to  reconsider,  carefulness  to  dispose  and 
set  in  order;  and  as  being  a  man  that  neither 
affects  what  is  new  nor  admires  what  is  old,  and 
that  hates  every  kind  of  imposture.  So  I  thought 
my  nature  had  a  kind  of  familiarity  and  relation- 
ship with  Truth." — FRANCIS  BACON. 

Before  Science — The  Practical  Mood— The  Emotional  Mood 
— The  Scientific  Mood  contrasted  with  the  Others — Ad- 
justment of  Moods — Characteristics  of  the  Scientific  Mood 
— A  Passion  for  Facts — Cautiousness  of  Statement — Clear- 
ness of  Vision — Sense  of  the  Inter-relatedness  of  Things — 
Culture  of  the  Scientific  Mood — Summary. 

BEFORE  SCIENCE. — We  do  not  know  much  that 
is  quite  certain  in  regard  to  our  early  ancestors, 
7 


8         INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  man's  relations  with 
Nature  were  for  a  long  time  predominantly 
practical.  We  may  recall  the  vivid  picture  which 
^Eschylus  gives  of  primitive  men — living  in  caves, 
without  fire,  without  wood-work,  without  sys- 
tem, without  seasons,  without  foresight,  a  dream- 
life  without  science: — 

"And  let  me  tell  you,  not  as  taunting  men, 
But  teaching  you  the  intention  of  my  gifts 
How,  first,  beholding  they  beheld  in  vain, 
And,  hearing,  heard   not,  but  like  shapes  in 

dreams, 
Mixed    all   things   wildly   down   the    tedious 

time, 

Nor  knew  to  build  a  house  against  the  sun 
With  wicketed  sides,  nor  any  wood-work  knew 
But  lived  like  silly  ants,  beneath  the  ground, 
In    hollow   caves   unsunned.     There   came    to 

them 

No  steadfast  sign  of  winter,  nor  of  spring 
Flower-perfumed,  nor  of  summer  full  of  fruit, 
But  blindly  and  lawlessly  they  did  all  things, 
Until  I  taught  them  how  the  stars  do  rise 
And  set  in  mystery,  and  devised  for  them 
Number,  the  inducer  of  philosophies, 
The  synthesis  of  letters,  and  besides 
The  artificer  of  all  things,  Memory 
That  sweet  muse-mother." 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  9 

In  those  early  days  the  various  moods  that 
we  are  familiar  with — such  as  the  scientific,  the 
artistic,  and  the  philosophic — had  not  become 
defined  off  from  an  oppressive  practical  mood. 
Very  gradually,  however,  Man  got  a  firmer  foot- 
hold in  the  struggle  for  existence,  and  was  able 
to  raise  his  head  and  look  at  the  stars.  He  dis- 
covered the  year  with  its  marvellous  object-lesson 
of  recurrent  sequences — a  discovery  which  was 
one  of  the  first  great  steps  towards  science,  and 
he  became  vividly  aware  that  his  race  had  a 
history.  He  had  time,  too,  for  a  conscious  en- 
joyment of  Nature,  which  came  to  mean  more 
and  more  to  him.  Here  and  there,  perhaps,  some 
began  to  ponder  over  the  significance  of  their 
experience.  Gradually,  at  all  events,  as  the  ages 
passed,  various  moods  became,  as  we  say,  dif- 
ferentiated from  one  another,  and  men  began  to 
be  contrasted  according  as  this  or  that  mood  was 
more  habitual  with  them.  Men  of  action,  men 
of  feeling,  and  men  of  thought,  these  were  the 
three  primary  types,  which  are  now-a-days  split 
up  into  minor  types.  They  correspond,  obvi- 
ously, to  doing,  feeling,  and  knowing;  to  hand, 
heart,  and  head;  to  practice,  emotional  activity, 
and  intellectual  inquiry.  That  we  may  better 
understand  the  scientific  mood,  let  us  consider  for 
a  little  the  others. 

THE    PRACTICAL    MOOD. — First    there   is   the 


10       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

mood  of  the  dominantly  practical  man,  whose 
whole  trend  is  towards  doing,  not  towards  know- 
ing. He  must,  of  course,  know  his  facts  if  his 
doings  are  to  be  effective,  and  he  must,  likewise, 
have  sound  social  feeling  if  his  doings  are  to  be 
deeds,  not  misdeeds;  and  no  one  will  seek  to 
dispute  that  the  practical  man  has  a  firm  grip 
of  facts,  and  that  he  is  often  full  of  that  kindli- 
ness which  marks  a  strong  development  of  the 
kin-instinct.  Yet  he  himself  would  be  the  first 
to  point  out  that  he  had  no  particular  hunger  or 
thirst  after  the  descriptive  formulae  which  Science 
seeks  to  supply.  So  far  as  Science  means  that 
kind  of  knowledge  which  is  Foresight,  that  kind 
of  Foresight  which  is  Power,  he  believed  in  it, 
but  on  the  whole  it  did  not  interest  him.  Simi- 
larly, while  he  would  confess  to  a  pleasure  in 
friendly  relations  between  man  and  man,  and 
between  man  and  his  beasts,  and  to  a  sometimes 
apparently  hyperaesthetic  sense  of  order,  he  would 
admit,  on  the  whole,  that  aesthetic  emotion  was 
not  much  in  his  line.  He  was  not  built  that  way. 
There  is  obviously  much  to  be  said  for  the 
dominant  practical  mood.  It  is  as  natural  and 
necessary  and  dignified  as  any  other.  Science 
grew  out  of  practical  lore,  and  fresh  vigour  has 
often  come  to  science  by  a  tightening  of  its  touch 
with  the  business  of  everyday  life.  How  much 
mathematics,  for  instance,  both  simple  and  subtle. 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  11 

has  arisen  in  direct  response  to  practical  needs, 
whether  of  measuring  land  or  measuring  elec- 
tricity ! 

On  the  other  hand,  the  risks  of  a  tyrannous 
practical  mood  are  great.  When  things  get  into 
the  saddle  and  override  ideas  and  ideals  and  all 
good  feeling,  when  the  multiplication  of  loaves 
and  fishes  becomes  the  only  problem  in  the  world, 
we  know  the  results  to  be  vicious.  To  be  wholly 
practical  is  to  grub  for  edible  roots  and  see  no 
flowers  upon  the  earth,  no  stars  overhead.  The 
exaggeratedly  practical  man  "will  have  nothing 
to  do  with  sentiment,"  though  he  prides  himself 
in  keeping  close  to  "the  facts";  he  cannot  abide 
"theory,"  though  he  is  himself  imbued  with  a 
quaint  Martin  Tupperism  which  gives  a  false  sim- 
plicity to  the  problems  of  life;  he  will  live,  he  in- 
sists, in  "the  real  world,"  and  yet  he  often  hugs 
close  to  himself  the  most  unreal  of  ideals. 

THE  EMOTIONAL  MOOD. — Secondly,  there  is  the 
emotional  and  artistic  mood,  which  finds  expres- 
sion in  Schiller's  words:  "O  wunderschon  ist 
Gottes  Erde,  und  schon  auf  ihr  ein  Mensch  zu 
sein."  "Oh  wondrous  beautiful  is  God's  earth, 
and  good  it  is  to  be  a  man  upon  it." 

From  man's  first  emergence,  perhaps,  the 
herbs  and  the  trees,  the  birds  and  the  beasts,  sent 
tendrils  into  his  heart,  claiming  and  finding  kin- 
ship.  Ever  so  early  there  must  have  been  a 


12       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 
I 

rude  joy  in  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  in 
the  pageant  of  the  seasons — something  more 
than  the  pleasure  of  basking  in  the  sun  like  a 
lizard.  Probably,  however,  it  was  not  until  man 
had  gained  some  firmness  of  footing  in  the 
world,  secured  by  his  wits  against  stronger  rivals 
and  a  careless  environment,  that  the  emotional 
tone  grew  into  dignity  as  a  distinct  mood,  a 
genuine  enjoyment  of  beautiful  things,  which 
found  expression  in  music  and  dance,  in  song  and 
story,  hi  painting  and  carving,  and  hi  religious 
rites. 

Like  the  practical  mood,  so  the  emotional 
mood  has  its  obvious  virtues.  It  is  part  of  the 
salt  of  life.  It  begets  a  sympathy  that  is  insight. 
In  a  noisy  world  it  helps  to  keep  us  aware  of 
harmony  hidden  in  the  heart  of  things. 

We  are  perhaps  apt  to  think  too  lightly  of  the 
value  of  the  more  primitive  aesthetic  emotions. 
Do  we  not  need  some  infusion  of  the  simple  de- 
light in  the  earth  which  was  expressed  for  in- 
stance by  Matthew  Arnold  in  his  Empedocles  on 
Etna:  "Is  it  so  small  a  thing  to  have  enjoy'd 
the  sun?"  There  is  a  fine  ideal,  which  no  science 
need  contradict,  in  that  line  of  Goldsmith's, 
"His  heaven  commences  ere  the  world  be  past." 
It  is  only  by  the  culture  of  the  emotional  mood — 
though  the  words  are  almost  self-contradictory — 
that  man  "hitches  his  wagon  to  the  stars." 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  IS 

But,  just  as  with  any  other  disproportionate 
development,  there  are  risks  in  the  hypertrophied 
emotional  mood.  Uncurbed  by  science,  un- 
related to  practice,  it  may  become  morbid,  even 
mad.  Rational  wonder  may  degenerate  into  "a 
caterwauling  about  Nature."  Enthusiasm  for 
what  is  beautiful,  without  relevant  activity,  may 
become  an  unpleasant  effervescence.  There  may 
be  overfeeling,  just  as  there  may  be  overdoing. 

THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  CONTRASTED  WITH  THE 
OTHERS. — The  scientific  worker  has  elected  pri- 
marily to  know,  not  do.  He  does  not  directly  seek, 
like  the  practical  man,  to  realize  the  ideal  of 
exploiting  nature  and  controlling  life — though  he 
makes  this  more  possible;  he  seeks  rather  to 
idealize — to  conceptualize — the  real,  or  at  least 
those  aspects  of  reality  that  are  available  in  his 
experience.  He  thinks  more  of  lucidity  and 
formulae  than  of  loaves  and  fishes.  He  is  more 
concerned  with  knowing  Nature  than  with  en- 
joying her.  His  main  intention  is  to  describe 
the  sequences  in  Nature  in  the  simplest  possible 
formulae,  to  make  a  working  thought-model  of 
the  known  world.  He  would  make  the  world 
translucent,  not  that  emotion  may  catch  the 
glimmer  of  the  indefinable  light  that  shines 
through,  but  for  other  reasons — because  of  his 
inborn  inquisitiveness,  because  of  his  dislike  of 
obscurities,  because  of  his  craving  for  a  system — 


14       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

an  intellectual  system  in  which  phenomena  are 
at  least  provisionally  unified. 

And,  as  we  have  indicated  the  vices  of  an  exag- 
gerated emotional  mood  and  of  a  too  exclusively 
practical  mood,  so  we  must  admit  that  the 
hypertrophied  scientific  mood  has  its  risks, — of 
ranking  science  first,  and  life  second  (as  if  science 
were  not,  after  all,  for  the  evolution  of  life);  of 
ignoring  good  feeling  (as  if  knowledge  could  not 
be  bought  at  too  high  a  price);  of  pedantry  (as 
if  science  were  merely  a  "preserve"  for  the  ex- 
pert intellectual  sportsman,  and  not  also  an 
education  for  the  citizen);  of  disproportionate 
analysis — dissecting  more  than  it  reconstructs — 
so  that  the  artistic  perception  of  unity  and  har- 
mony is  lost;  of  maniacal  muck-raking  for  items 
of  fact  (as  if  facts  alone  constituted  a  science). 

ADJUSTMENT  OF  MOODS. — Before  we  go  on  to 
consider  the  characteristics  of  the  scientific  mood 
in  greater  detail,  let  us  sum  up  so  far.  There  are 
three  dominant  moods  in  man — practical,  emo- 
tional, and  scientific — each  with  its  subdivisions. 
They  correspond  symbolically  to  hand,  heart,  and 
head,  and  they  are  all  equally  necessary  and 
worthy.  "And  the  eye  cannot  say  unto  the 
hand,  I  have  no  need  of  thee:  nor  again  the  head 
to  the  feet,  I  have  no  need  of  you."  They  are 
all  worthy,  but  most  so  when  they  respect  one 
another  as  equally  justifiable  outlooks  on  nature, 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  15 

and  when  they  are  combined,  in  adjusted  pro- 
portions, in  a  full  human  life.  But  that  is  so 
difficult  of  attainment,  especially  when  great 
excellence  in  one  direction  has  been  inherited  or 
icquired,  that  the  disproportionate  developments 
,ve  have  spoken  of  are  apt  to  occur.  They  are 
>ften  the  more  dangerous  because  of  the  very 
trength  which  the  exaggeration  gives  to  its  pos- 
essor.  This  is  part  of  the  penalty  of  genius. 

For  ordinary  folk,  however,  it  is  safe  to  say 
that  when  any  mood  becomes  so  dominant  that 
the  validity  of  the  others  is  denied  or  ignored, 
the  results  are  likely  to  be  tainted  with  some  vice 
— some  inhumanity,  some  sentimentalism,  some 
pedantry,  some  violence  to  the  unity  of  life.  A 
sane  life  implies  a  practical  recognition  of  the 
trinity  of  knowing,  feeling,  and  doing.  This 
spells  health,  wholeness,  holiness,  as  Edward 
Carpenter  has  well  said. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD. — 
In  his  presidential  address  to  the  British  Associa- 
tion in  1899,  Sir  Michael  Foster  inquired  into  the 
qualities  that  distinguish  the  scientific  worker, 
and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  were,  in  the 
mam,  three: — 

"In  the  first  place,  above  all  other  things,  his 
nature  must  be  one  which  vibrates  in  unison 
tvith  that  of  which  he  is  in  search;  the  seeker 
\fter  truth  must  himself  be  truthful,  truthful  with 


16       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  truthfulness  of  nature;  which  is  far  more 
imperious,  far  more  exacting  than  that  which 
man  sometimes  calls  truthfulness. 

"In  the  second  place,  he  must  be  alert  of  mind. 
Nature  is  ever  making  signs  to  us,  she  is  ever 
whispering  to  us  the  beginnings  of  her  secrets; 
the  scientific  man  must  be  ever  on  the  watch, 
ready  at  once  to  lay  hold  of  Nature's  hint,  how- 
ever small,  to  listen  to  her  whisper,  however 
low. 

"In  the  third  place,  scientific  inquiry,  though 
it  be  pre-eminently  an  intellectual  effort,  has 
need  of  the  moral  quality  of  courage — not  so  much 
the  courage  which  helps  a  man  to  face  a  sudden 
difficulty  as  the  courage  of  steadfast  endurance." 

Anticipating  the  obvious  criticism  that  these 
three  qualities  of  truthfulness,  alertness,  and 
courage  are  not  in  any  way  peculiar  to  the  scien- 
tific man,  but  "may  be  recognized  as  belonging  to 
almost  every  one  who  has  commanded  or  deserved 
success,  whatever  may  have  been  his  walk  in  life," 
Sir  Michael  said:  "That  is  exactly  what  I  would 
desire  to  insist,  that  the  men  of  science  have  no 
peculiar  virtues,  no  special  powers.  They  are 
ordinary  men,  their  characters  are  common,  even 
commonplace.  Science,  as  Huxley  said,  is  or- 
ganized common-sense,  and  men  of  science  are 
common  men,  drilled  in  the  ways  of  common- 
sense." 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  17 

Perhaps  this  protests  a  little  too  much,  that 
the  scientific  man  is  as  other  men  are,  but  it 
emphasizes  a  useful  point,  that  the  scientific  mood 
does  not  necessarily  imply  any  particular  knowl- 
edge of  this  or  that  science.  Some  men  who  are 
quite  ignorant  of  any  of  the  concrete  sciences 
have  nevertheless  a  highly  developed  scientific 
mood.  Give  them  data  and  a  clearly  stated 
problem,  and  they  soon  show  that  they  are 
scientific  in  every  fibre  of  their  mind.  It  is 
indeed  a  vulgar  error  that  science  is  anything  by 
itself.  To  speak  of  "going  in  for  science"  is  like 
proposing  to  go  in  for  breathing  or  good  digestion. 

When  all  is  said,  however,  we  feel  that  there  is 
something  distinctive  in  the  scientific  mood,  and 
this  requires  further  analysis.  It  will  appear 
that  our  conclusions  agree  with  Sir  Michael 
Foster's,  but  they  emphasize  intellectual  rather 
than  moral  features. 

A  PASSION  FOR  FACTS. — As  a  first  characteristic 
of  the  scientific  mood  we  would  rank  a  passion 
for  facts,  which  corresponds  to  the  quality  of 
truthfulness  in  Sir  Michael  Foster's  analysis. 
It  is  the  desire  for  accuracy  of  observation  and 
precision  of  statement.  "First  make  sure  of  the 
facts,"  is  a  fundamental  precept  in  science,  but 
it  is  no  easy  matter.  Even  in  regard  to  simple 
problems  it  is  often  difficult  to  get  a  grip  of  the 
facts  of  the  case.  Even  in  regard  to  simple  oc- 


18       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

currences  it  is  often  difficult  to  give  a  quite 
accurate  account  of  what  took  place.  This  is 
partly  due  to  the  dash  of  the  artistic  mood  which 
most  men  have.  It  is  often  due  to  the  untrained 
eye,  which  sees  only  what  it  has  the  power  of 
seeing, — sometimes  little  indeed — and,  in  the 
opposite  direction,  to  preconceptions  which  often 
enable  men  to  see  what  is  not  to  be  seen.  It  is 
also  due  to  lack  of  discipline  in  the  method  of 
science;  thus  nothing  is  commoner  than  a  nail* 
ration  that  mingles  observation  with  unconscious 
inferences  from  observation,  which  is  one  of  the 
elementary  fallacies. 

"Man,  unscientific  man,"  Sir  Michael  Foster 
said,  "is  often  content  with  'the  nearly'  and  'the 
almost.'  Nature  never  is.  It  is  not  her  way  to 
call  the  same,  two  things  which  differ,  though  the 
difference  may  be  measured  by  less  than  the 
thousandth  of  a  milligramme  or  of  a  millimetre, 
or  by  any  other  like  standard  of  minuteness. 
And  the  man  who,  carrying  the  ways  of  the 
world  into  the  domain  of  science,  thinks  that  he 
may  treat  Nature's  differences  in  any  other  way 
than  she  treats  them  herself,  will  find  that  she 
resents  his  conduct;  if  he  in  carelessness  or  hi 
disdain  overlooks  the  minute  difference  which 
she  holds  out  to  him  as  a  signal  to  guide  him 
in  his  search,  the  projecting  tip,  as  it  were, 
of  some  buried  treasure,  he  is  bound  to  go 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  19 

astray,  and,  the  more  strenuously  he  struggles 
on,  the  farther  will  he  find  himself  from  his  true 
goal." 

Many  children  seem  to  pass  through  an  inter- 
esting stage  in  which  they  fail  to  discriminate 
between  their  dream-pictures  and  their  wide- 
awake pictures  of  actual  occurrences,  and  it  was 
probably  ingenuousness  rather  than  any  lack  of 
good  faith  that  led  some  of  the  old  naturalist- 
travellers,  in  the  glamour  of  strange  lands,  to 
mix  up  in  their  diaries  what  they  actually  saw 
and  what  the  natives  told  them  was  to  be  seen. 
And  we  do  not  need  to  go  back  to  ancient  history 
to  find  examples. 

The  scientific  worker  is  well  aware  that  in 
measurements  and  observations  the  accuracy  at- 
tainable is  only  approximate,  and  that  the  degree 
of  approximation  varies  with  the  individual. 
The  personal  equation  has  been  for  a  long  time 
frankly  recognized  and  allowed  for  in  astronomy; 
it  is  also  sometimes  estimated  in  chemistry  and 
physics;  but  it  must  be  recognized  all  round. 
Science  begins  with  measurement  and  there  are 
some  people  who  cannot  be  measurers;  and  just 
as  we  distinguish  carpenters  who  can  work  to  this 
or  that  fraction  of  an  inch  of  accuracy,  so  we 
must  distinguish  ourselves  and  our  acquaint- 
ances as  able  to  observe  and  record  to  this  or 
that  degree  of  truthfulness. 


20       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

Hence,  naturally,  the  importance  of  discipline 
and  apprenticeship  in  precision — whether  with 
the  chemical  balance  or  with  the  scalpel,  with 
the  sextant  or  the  micrometer.  Even  faithful 
drawing  is  an  effective  factor  in  the  development 
of  truthfulness ;  and  we  heartily  agree  with  Agassiz 
that  a  training  in  natural  science  is  one  of  the  best 
preparations  a  man  can  have  for  work  in  any 
department  of  life  where  accurate  carefulness 
and  adherence  to  the  facts  of  the  case  are  of 
indispensable  importance. 

Long  ago  Bacon  said:  "We  should  accustom 
ourselves  to  things  themselves,"  and  this-^-to 
distinguish  between  appearance  and  reality-(-is 
what  the  scientific  mood  seeks  after.  Its  emblem 
might  be  the  X-rays  which  penetrate  through 
superficial  obscurities.  It  is  the  note  of  precision 
that  is  distinctive.  We  read  of  Clerk  Maxwell: 
"Throughout  his  childhood  his  constant  question 
was,  'What's  the  go  of  that?  What  does  it  do?' 
Nor  was  he  content  with  a  vague  answer,  but 
would  reiterate,  'But  what's  the  particular  go 
of  it?'" 

The  quality  of  accuracy  has,  of  course,  a  great 
variety  of  expressions  at  many  different  levels, 
but  it  is  of  the  same  mood  and  towards  the  same 
ideal  all  through.  The  discipline  of  weighing  and 
measuring  is  doubtless  sometimes  exaggerated 
into  an  end  in  itself,  and  made  unnecessarily 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  21 

tedious  by  its  unrelatedness  to  real  problems,  but 
those  who  are  inclined  to  be  impatient  with  it 
should  remember  that  it  is  congruent  with  and 
contributory  to  "that  enthusiasm  for  truth, 
that  fanaticism  of  veracity,  which  is  a  greater 
possession  than  much  learning;  a  nobler  gift 
than  the  power  of  increasing  knowledge." 

These  are  Huxley's  words,  whose  passion  for 
facts  marked  all  he  said  and  did.  They  suggest 
a  famous  sentence  in  his  autobiography,  in  which 
he  expressed  his  aims  in  life.  "If  I  may  speak 
of  the  objects  I  have  had  in  view  since  I  began 
the  ascent  of  my  hillock,  they  are  briefly  these: 
To  promote  the  increase  of  natural  knowledge 
and  to  forward  the  application  of  scientific  meth- 
ods of  investigation  to  all  the  problems  of  life 
to  the  best  of  my  ability,  in  the  conviction  which 
has  grown  with  my  growth  and  strengthened 
with  my  strength,  that  there  is  no  alleviation 
for  the  sufferings  of  mankind  except  veracity  of 
thought  and  of  action,  and  the  resolute  facing  of 
the  world  as  it  is,  when  the  garment  of  make- 
believe  by  which  pious  hands  have  hidden  its 
uglier  features  is  stripped  off."  * 

We  have  used  the  strong  phrase  "a  passion 
for  facts"  because  of  the  intensity  which  all  the 
great  masters  in  science  have  shown  in  their 
reverence  for  truth  and  in  their  contempt  for 
mere  opinions.  "Opinions,"  Glanville  says,  "are 


22       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  rattles  of  immature  intellects,  but  the  ad- 
vanced reasons  have  outgrown  them." 

"The  longer  I  live,"  Huxley  said,  "the  more 
obvious  it  is  to  me  that  the  most  sacred  act 
of  a  man's  life  is  to  say  and  feel,  'I  believe  such 
and  such  to  be  true.'  All  the  greatest  rewards 
and  all  the  heaviest  penalties  of  existence  cling 
about  that  act." 

CAUTIOUSNESS  OF  STATEMENT. — Following  from 
the  passion  for  facts,  there  is  a  second  char- 
acteristic of  the  scientific  mood,  namely,  cau- 
tiousness. *It  has  habituated  itself  to  withhold 
judgment  when  the  data  are  obviously  incom- 
plete; to  doubt  conclusions  that  have  been  quickly 
reached;  to  hesitate  in  accepting  what  is  particu- 
larly attractive  whether  in  its  simplicity  or  its 
symmetry!  Thus  scientific  workers  are  naturally 
sceptical  and  of  the  school  of  St.  Thomas — which 
is  in  no  way  inconsistent  with  a  tenacity  of  con- 
viction when  the  demonstration  is  complete. 
Not  any  easier  than  accuracy  is  this  quality 
of  active  scepticism,  "thatige  Skepsis."  Indeed, 
as  Prof.  W.  K.  Brooks  says  in  his  Foundations 
of  Zoology:  "The  hardest  of  intellectual  virtues 
is  philosophic  doubt,  and  the  mental  vice  to  which 
we  are  most  prone  is  our  tendency  to  believe 
that  lack  of  evidence  for  an  opinion  is  a  reason 
for  believing  something  else."  .  .  .  "Suspended 
judgment  is  the  greatest  triumph  of  intellectual 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  23 

discipline."  The  sceptical,  distrustful,  scientific 
desire  to  test  everything  was  charmingly  hit  off 
in  the  definition  of  a  professor  given  in  Fliegende 
Blatter — "Ein  Professor  ist  ein  Mensch  der  an- 
derer  Meinung  ist."  "A  professor  is  a  man  who 
is  of  a  different  opinion." 

\  It  is  true  that  the  scientific  mood  is  continually 
making  hypotheses  or  guesses  at  truth;  the 
scientific ,  use  of  the  imagination  is  a  recognized 
method.  It  is  a  kind  of  intellectual  experimenta- 
tion, and  it  suggests  actual  experiments  by 
which  it  is  itself  tested^  The  danger  of  this  is 
not  so  much  for  experts  as  for  those  who  have 
incomplete  mastery  of  the  rules  of  the  game,  but 
every  one  will  admit  that  provisional  hypotheses 
have  a  tendency  to  put  on  the  garb  of  full-grown 
theories,  or  even  of  established  doctrines.  As 
Mr.  Bateson  has  phrased  it,  the  controlled  scien- 
tific mood  will  avoid  "giving  to  the  ignorant  as 
a  gospel,  in  the  name  of  science,  the  rough  guesses 
of  yesterday  that  to-morrow  should  forget."  As 
Huxley  said  with  memorable  severity:  "The  as- 
sertion that  outstrips  the  evidence  is  not  only  a 
blunder  but  a  crime." 

A  fine  illustration  of  scientific  restraint  is  to 
be  found  in  Huxley's  agnostic  position  in  regard 
to  the  theory  of  evolution  before  the  publication 
of  the  Origin  of  Species.  He  had  studied  Lamarck 
attentively,  and  he  had  fought  many  and  pro- 


24        INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

longed  battles  with  Herbert  Spencer  on  the 
subject.  "But  even  my  friend's  rare  dialectic 
skill  and  copiousness  of  apt  illustration  could 
not  drive  me  from  my  agnostic  position.  I  took 
my  stand  upon  two  grounds:  Firstly,  that  up 
to  that  time,  the  evidence  in  favour  of  transmuta- 
tion was  wholly  insufficient;  and  secondly,  that 
no  suggestion  respecting  the  causes  of  transmuta- 
tion assumed,  which  had  been  made,  was  in  any 
way  adequate  to  explain  the  phenomena.  Look- 
ing back  at  the  state  of  knowledge  at  that  time, 
I  really  do  not  see  that  any  other  conclusion  was 
justifiable."  .  .  .  "That  which  we  were  looking 
for,  and  could  not  find,  was  a  hypothesis  respect- 
ing the  origin  of  known  organic  forms  which  as- 
sumed the  operation  of  no  causes  but  such  as 
could  be  proved  to  be  actually  at  work.  We 
wanted,  not  to  pin  our  faith  to  that  or  any  other 
speculation,  but  to  get  hold  of  clear  and  definite 
conceptions  which  could  be  brought  face  to  face 
with  facts  and  have  their  validity  tested.  The 
Origin  provided  us  with  the  working  hypothesis 
we  sought."  .  .  .  "The  only  rational  course  for 
those  who  had  no  other  object  than  the  attain- 
ment of  truth  was  to  accept  'Darwinism'  as  a 
working  hypothesis  and  see  what  could  be  made 
of  it.  Either  it  would  prove  its  capacity  to  eluci- 
date the  facts  of  organic  life,  or  it  would  break 
down  under  the  strain."  (See  Huxley's  Life  and 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  25 

Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  168.)  To  read  these  words  is  to 
breathe  the  scientific  atmosphere.  They  illus- 
trate the  scientific  mood  better  than  any  analysis. 
Cautiousness,  then,  is  characteristic  of  science. 
Just  as  "burnt  bairns  dread  the  fire";  so  the 
scientific  mood,  often  deceived  by  misobserva- 
tion,  by  inferences  mixed  up  with  records,  by 
hearsay  evidence,  by  an  induction  from  too  nar- 
row a  basis,  and  even  by  the  will-o'-the-wisp 
glamour  of  a  brilliant  hypothesis,  becomes  more 
and  more  cautious,  distrustful,  "canny."  One  of 
the  forms  of  cautiousness  that  is  most  difficult 
of  attainment,  and  yet  indispensable,  is  distrust 
of  our  personal  bias  in  forming  judgments.  Our 
interpretations  are  necessarily  coloured  by  our 
personal  experience  and  our  social  environment; 
our  hypotheses  may  arise  from  social  suggestion: 
but  before  they  pass  into  the  framework  of 
science  they  must  be  "de-personalized."  In  fact, 
the  validity  of  a  scientific  conclusion,  as  distin- 
guished from  a  mere  opinion,  depends  on  the 
elimination  of  the  subjective  element.  As  Prof. 
Karl  Pearson  says :  "  The  scientific  man  has  above 
all  things  to  strive  at  self-elimination  in  his 
judgments,  to  provide  an  argument  which  is  as 
true  for  each  individual  mind  as  for  his  own. 
The  classification  of  facts,  the  recognition  of 
their  sequence  and  relative  significance,  is  the 
function  of  science,  and  the  habit  of  forming  a 


26       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

judgment  upon  these  facts,  unbiassed  by  personal 
feeling,  is  characteristic  of  what  may  be  termed 
the  scientific  frame  of  mind"  (Grammar  of  Science, 
1900  edition,  p.  6). 

As  Faraday  said:  "The  world  little  knows 
how  many  of  the  thoughts  and  theories  which 
have  passed  through  the  mind  of  a  scientific 
investigator  have  been  crushed  in  silence  and 
secrecy  by  his  own  severe  criticism  and  adverse 
examination;  that  in  the  most  successful  instances 
not  a  tenth  of  the  suggestions,  the  hopes,  the 
wishes,  the  preliminary  conclusions  have  been 
realized."  As  a  complementary  statement  we 
give  another  quotation  from  the  same  great  au- 
thority: "The  philosopher  should  be  a  man  will- 
ing to  listen  to  every  suggestion,  but  determined 
to  judge  for  himself.  He  should  not  be  biassed 
by  appearances;  have  no  favourite  hypotheses; 
be  of  no  school,  and  in  doctrine  have  no  master. 
He  should  not  be  a  respecter  of  persons,  but  of 
things.  Truth  should  be  his  primary  object.  If 
to  these  qualities  be  added  industry,  he  may 
indeed  hope  to  walk  within  the  veil  of  the  Temple 
of  Nature." 

It  seems  to  us  strange  that  some  biologists 
have  criticized  Prof.  Weismann  because  in  the 
course  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  or  more,  he  has 
modified  certain  of  his  suggestions  as  new  facts 
came  within  his  knowledge.  Nothing  is  more 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  £7 

characteristically  scientific.  As  Prof.  J.  H. 
Poynting  has  admirably  put  it:  "The  hypotheses 
of  science  are  continually  changing.  Old  hypoth- 
eses break  down  and  new  ones  take  their  place. 
But  the  classification  of  known  phenomena  which 
a  hypothesis  has  suggested,  and  the  new  discov- 
eries of  phenomena  to  which  it  has  led,  remain 
as  positive  and  permanent  additions  to  natural 
knowledge  when  the  hypothesis  itself  has  van- 
ished from  thought." 

CLEARNESS  OF  VISION. — A  third  character- 
istic of  the  scientific  mood  is  the  endeavour  after 
clearness,  ^the  dislike  of  blurred  vision  and  ob- 
scurities. \  The  mole  has  a  sort  of  half-finished 
lens,  which  is  physically  incapable  of  throwing 
any  clear  image  on  the  retina.  If  there  is  any 
image  at  all,  it  must  be  a  blurred  tangle  of  lines. 
In  our  busy  lives,  as  the  nemesis  of  our  specialisms 
and  preoccupations,  we  tend  to  have  moles' 
lenses  in  regard  to  particular  orders  of  facts;  we 
see  certain  things  clearly,  but  others  are  blurs. 
The  scientific  mood  is  in  continual  protest  against 
this;  it  is  all  for  clearness. 

When  we  work  long  at  a  thing  and  come  to 
know  it  up  and  down,  in  and  out,  through  and 
through,  it  becomes  hi  quite  a  remarkable  way 
translucent.  The  botanist  can  see  through  his 
tree,  see  wood  and  bast,  cambium  and  medullary 
rays,  all  in  their  proper  place;  he  can  see  the 


28       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

ascending  water  and  salts,  the  descending  sugar 
and  proteids.  The  zoologist  can  in  the  same  way 
see  through  the  snail  on  the  thorn,  seeing  as  in  a 
glass  model  everything  in  its  place,  the  nerve- 
centres,  the  muscles,  the  stomach,  the  beating 
heart,  the  coursing  blood,  and  the  filtering  kid- 
ney. So  the  human  body  becomes  translucent  to 
the  skilled  anatomist,  and  the  globe  to  a  skilled 
geographer. 

Similarly,  on  a  higher  plane  than  merely  opti- 
cal clearness,  those  of  the  scientific  mood  are  in 
great  part  trying  to  make  the  world  translucent. 
They  are  seeking  to  construct  an  intellectual 
cinematograph  of  the  long  processions  of  causes 
that  pass  unceasingly  before  us.  A  perfectly  clear 
working  thought-model  is  what  science  seeks  to 
construct. 

There  is  so  much  to  know  that  ignorance  in 
itself  is  no  particular  reproach;  but  the  point 
is  to  be  clear  when  we  know  and  when  we  do  not, 
and  it  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  scientific 
mood  that  it  will  have  yes  or  no  to  this  question. 

"Do  you  see  it  or  do  you  not?"  was  the  con- 
tinual question  of  a  biological  teacher  gifted 
with  great  educational  ability,  and  "If  you  see 
it,  what  is  it  like?" 

A  student  who  worked  under  Agassiz  relates 
how  she  was  almost  brought  to  despair  by  the 
severe  way  in  which  that  great  master,  after  giv- 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  29 

ing  her  a  specimen  to  study,  came  day  after  day, 
and  asked,  with  a  cruel  kindliness:  "Well,  what 
do  you  see  now?"  and  then  went  away.  But 
at  length  the  student  saw  something — saw  what 
was  to  be  seen,  and  more  also. 

What  science  knows  it  must  know  definitely; 
what  it  sees  must  be  in  focus.  It  feels  the  wisdom 
of  one  of  Bacon's  aphorisms — often  verified  in  his- 
tory: "Truth  to  emerge  sooner  from  error  than 
from  confusion."  The  definitizing  of  error  is 
often  the  beginning  of  its  disappearance.  When 
the  evil  genie  of  the  Eastern  tales  took  on  definite 
bodily  form  there  was  some  chance  of  tackling 
him;  as  a  mere  wraith  he  was  unassailable. 

One  of  the  expressions  of  the  scientific  endea- 
vour after  clearness  is  to  be  found  in  precision  of 
speech.  Thus  Prof.  Silvanus  P.  Thompson  says 
of  Lord  Kelvin:  "He  hated  ambiguities  of  lan- 
guage, and  statements  which  mislead  by  loose- 
ness of  phrasing.  With  painful  effort  he  strove 
for  clarity  of  expression,  elaborating  his  phrases 
in  a  way  that  threatened  at  times  to  defeat  the 
end  intended.  In  that  hazy  medium  of  words 
wherein  we  all  drown,  he  at  least  would  attempt 
to  observe  the  proprieties  of  language.  As  an 
example  take  this:  Externally  the  sense  of  touch, 
other  than  heat,  is  the  same  in  all  cases — it  is 
a  sense  of  forces,  and  of  places  of  application  of 
forces,  and  of  directions  of  forces." 


SO       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

SENSE  OF  THE  INTER-RELATEDNESS  OF  THINGS. 
— A  fourth  characteristic  of  the  scientific  mood 
is  a  sense  of  the  inter-relatedness  of  things.  It 
regards  Nature  as  a  vibrating  system  most  surely 
and  subtly  interconnected.  It  discloses  a  world 
of  inter-relations,  a  long  procession  of  causes,  a 
web  of  life,  infinite  sequences  bound  by  the  iron 
chains  of  causality. 

In  illustration,  we  would  quote  what  we  have 
said  elsewhere  in  reference  to  Darwin's  picture 
of  "The  Web  of  Life," — one  of  the  grandest  of 
all  scientific  pictures.  "What  is  meant  by  Dar- 
win's picture  of  the  Web  of  Life,  and  where  did 
he  paint  it?  We  find  it  in  all  his  works — a  lumin- 
ous background — the  idea  of  linkages  in  nature, 
the  idea  of  the  correlation  of  organisms.  Cats 
have  to  do  with  the  clover-crop,  Darwin  says, 
and  earthworms  with  the  world's  bread  supply. 
If  there  is  an  orchid  in  Madagascar  with  a  spur 
eleven  inches  long,  Darwin  prophesies  that  there 
is  a  moth  with  a  proboscis  of  equal  length.  No 
bird  falls  to  the  ground  without  sending  a  throb 
through  a  wide  circle,  for  Darwin  rears  eighty 
seedlings  from  a  single  clod  taken  from  a  bird's 
foot.  Long  nutritive  chains  may  bind  the  bracken 
on  the  hill-side  to  the  brain  of  the  proprietor — 
if  he  is  fond  of  eating  trout.  The  patent-leather 
shoes  on  his  feet  connect  him  with  the  melan- 
choly slaughter  of  seals,  while  his  ivory-backed 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  31 

toilet-brushes  implicate  him  in  the  passing  of 
the  elephant.  There  is  a  ceaseless  circulation  of 
matter  and  energy.  All  things  flow.  Influence 
passes  from  A.  to  Z.,  though  Z.  is  quite  unaware 
of  A.  What  ripples  spread  and  spread  from  the 
introduction  of  rabbits  into  Australia,  or  of 
sparrows  into  the  United  States,  or  of  the  mon- 
goose into  Jamaica.  What  absolutely  essential 
connections  there  are  between  cutting  down  trees 
and  a  plague  of  insects,  between  birds  and  seed- 
scattering,  between  sunlight  and  the  catches  of 
mackerel"  (Darwinism  and  Human  Life,  1909, 
p.  10).  These  and  hundreds  of  similar  linkages 
seem  at  first  quaint  puzzles,  but  when  the  house- 
that-Jack-built  procession  of  causes  is  indicated, 
they  become  clear  as  daylight — as  actualities 
of  inter-relatedness.  Our  illustrations  happen 
to  be  biological,  but  the  idea  is  universal,  and 
the  outlook  for  all  sorts  of  inter-relations  in 
the  great  system  of  nature  is  diagnostic  of  the 
scientific  mood.  It  is  often  seen  in  high  develop- 
ment in  men  of  business,  particularly  in  those 
who  have  geographical  interests.  For  it  must 
be  borne  in  mind  throughout  that  the  scientific 
mood  is  in  no  way  confined  to  those  who  pursue 
science  in  the  stricter  sense. 

CULTURE  OF  THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD. — We  do 
not  apologize  for  giving  so  much  prominence  to 
an  elementary  discussion  of  the  chief  charac- 


32       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

teristics  of  the  scientific  mood.  For  in  a  series 
like  that  to  which  this  volume  belongs  it  cannot 
be  made  too  clear  that  science  is  no  "preserve" 
for  the  learned,  but  the  birthright  of  all.  We 
must  never  think  of  it  as  something  printed  and 
ponderous  and  more  or  less  finished,  but  as 
something  living  in  our  mind  and  influencing 
our  work. 

As  was  admirably  said  by  Mr.  Benchara 
Branford  in  an  address  to  students:  "Science  is 
born  anew  in  the  deliberate  will  and  intention  of 
each  of  us  when  we  succeed  in  thinking  about  the 
principles  of  our  work  in  a  clear,  logical,  and 
systematic  way,  and  courageously  put  our  con- 
clusions to  the  test  of  experiment;  and  the  so- 
called  sciences  are  the  written  records  of  such 
thinking,  only  more  extensive,  clear,  systematic, 
and  consistent,  and  more  true  to  reality,  because 
they  have  been  tested  by  countless  experiments 
and  experiences  in  the  race." 

What  would  one  not  give  to  be  able  to  tell 
how  the  scientific  mood  may  be  developed!  Our 
inheritances  are  diverse  and  unequal,  and  they 
limit  us;  yet  much  can  be  gained  by  "nurture" 
and  much  lost  for  the  lack  of  it. 

A  born  raconteur  is  not  likely  to  make  a 
good  man  of  science  even  in  the  best  laboratory 
in  the  world,  and  a  man  without  a  dash  of  poetry 
is  not  likely  to  acquire  it  by  a  diligent  perusal 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  MOOD  33 

of  the  Faerie  Queene,  yet  it  is  idle  to  pretend 
that  we  cannot  to  some  extent  influence  the 
development  of  our  inherited  moods  by  appro- 
priate nurture. 

By  dint  of  hammering,  one  becomes  a  smith, 
and  it  is  by  doing  scientific  work  that  one  culti- 
vates the  scientific  habit  of  mind.  Those  who 
mean  to  become  teachers  and  investigators  may 
find  inspiration  hi  being  apprenticed  to  a  great 
master  and  in  a  laboratory  with  great  traditions; 
those  who  mean  only  to  become  intelligent 
citizens  of  the  world — to  whom  this  volume, 
with  the  rest  of  the  Library,  is  primarily  ad- 
dressed— may  find  inspiration  in  reading  scien- 
tific "classics,"  histories  of  science  (astronomy, 
best  of  all),  and  biographies  of  the  great  masters 
(such  as  Faraday,  Clerk  Maxwell,  Helmholtz, 
Kelvin,  Huxley,  Darwin,  and  Pasteur),  but  the 
scientific  temper  must  be  wrought  out  by  each  one 
for  himself. 

What  we  wish  to  make  clear  is  that  the  scien- 
tific mood  does  not  necessarily  demand  for  its 
development  the  long  sea-voyages  that  meant  so 
much  to  Darwin  and  Huxley,  nor  the  extensive 
explorations  and  long  solitudes  that  meant  so 
much  to  Humboldt  and  Wallace,  nor  dramatic  op- 
portunities such  as  came  to  Pasteur,  nor  splendidly 
equipped  laboratories,  nor  costly  instruments. 

What  is  demanded  is  within  the  reach  of  all 


34       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

who  will  habituate  themselves  in  making  sure  of 
the  facts,  in  precision  of  statement,  hi  getting 
things  clear,  and  in  realizing  the  complexity  of 
all  situations.  These  qualities  cannot  be  ac- 
quired passively;  the  kingdom  of  science  must  be 
taken  by  force.  The  scientific  mood  can  only  be 
engendered  by  our  being  actively  and  energeti- 
cally scientific. 

It  matters  little  what  problem  is  tackled,  but  it 
should,  at  first,  be  one  that  admits  of  discipline 
in  some  form  of  measurement  or  accurate  registra- 
tion. It  is  often  well  to  follow  our  tendrils  of 
spontaneous  interest  towards  some  subject  which 
naturally  attracts  us;  but  it  is  also  well  that  we 
should  undertake  some  difficult  piece  of  work, 
which  stretches  our  brains.  In  some  way  those 
who  would  develop  the  scientific  mood  must  learn 
to  endure  hardness  intellectually,  remembering 
Darwin's  recipe:  "It's  dogged  that  does  it." 

SUMMARY. — The  scientific  mood  is  especially 
marked  by  a  passion  for  facts,  by  cautiousness  of 
statement,  by  clearness  of  vision,  and  by  a  sense  of 
the  inter-relatedness  of  things.  It  is  contrasted  with 
the  emotional  or  artistic  mood  and  with  the  practical 
mood,  bid  the  three  form  a  trinity  (of  knowing,  feel- 
ing and  doing},  which  should  be  unified  in  every 
normal  life. 


CHAPTER  H 

THE   AIM   OF   SCIENCE 

"The  classification  of  facts,  the  recognition 
of  their  sequence  and  relative  significance  is  the 
function  of  science,  and  the  habit  of  forming  a 
judgment  upon  these  facts  unbiassed  by  personal 
feeling  is  characteristic  of  what  may  be  termed  the 
scientific  frame  of  mind." — KARL  PEARSON. 

Observation,  Description,  and  Formulation — Science  and 
Common-Sense — The  Subject-Matter  of  Science — De- 
scriptive Character  of  Science — Knowledge  of  Causes- 
Reduction  to  Simpler  Terms — Laws  of  Nature — Particu- 
lar Aims  of  Different  Sciences — The  Evolutionary  Aim — • 
Summary. 

LONGSTANDING  controversies  regarding  science 
and  religion,  science  and  theology,  science  and 
philosophy,  science  and  poetry,  owe  their  longev- 
ity partly  to  a  misunderstanding  of  the  aim  of 
Science.  We  propose,  therefore,  to  devote  a 
chapter  to  this  subject,  which  is  also  of  great  in- 
terest for  its  own  sake. 

OBSERVATION,  DESCRIPTION,  FORMULATION. — 
The  primary  aim  of  Science  is  the  concise  de- 
scription of  the  knowable  universe.  The  man  of 

85 


S6       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

scientific  mood  becomes  aware  of  certain  facts 
that  interest  him;  he  proceeds  to  become  more 
intimately  aware  of  them;  to  make  his  sensory 
experience  of  them  as  full  as  possible.  Careful 
and  critical  observation  is  the  first  step. 

This  work  of  Science,  which  we  may  call  get- 
ting at  the  facts,  is  much  more  difficult  of  attain- 
ment than  those  who  have  not  tried  imagine.  One 
reason  for  this  is  very  familiar, — that  things  are 
not  always  what  they  seem  to  be.  And  though 
Science  does  not  raise  the  characteristic  meta- 
physical question  as  to  what  is  meant  by  being 
real,  it  has  in  its  own  way  to  distinguish  seeming 
from  reality.  The  sun  does  not  rise  and  set,  the 
stable  Earth  is  a  whirling  sphere,  the  inert  body 
may  be  a  vortex  of  rapidly  moving  corpuscles, 
and  so  on.  If  Science  is  to  be  consistent  it  has  to 
set  itself  to  the  task  of  distinguishing  realities 
from  appearances. 

Having  got  his  facts,  the  scientific  investigator 
proceeds  to  arrange  them,  to  find  their  common 
denominator,  to  discover  the  conditions  of  their 
occurrence,  and  to  describe  them  as  completely 
and  as  simply  as  possible,  and  finally  to  sum 
them  up  hi  a  general  formula,  often  called  "a 
law  of  nature." 

Aristotle  defined  this  aim  when  he  said:  "Art 
[or,  as  we  should  say,  Science]  begins  when,  from 
a  great  number  of  experiences,  one  general  con- 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  37 

ception  is  formed  which  will  embrace  all  similar 
cases."  And  the  greater  part  of  the  clearing-up 
which  Science  effects  is  not  in  forming  some  new 
general  conception,  but  in  bringing  new  sets  of 
facts  within  the  grasp  of  an  old  one.  When  we 
make  things  more  intelligible,  we  do  so  by  dis- 
cerning the  general  beneath  the  particular, 
the  "permanent  law"  beneath  the  "evanescent 
circumstance." 

In  short,  it  is  the  aim  of  Science  to  describe 
the  impersonal  facts  of  experience  in  verifiable 
terms,  as  exactly  as  possible,  as  simply  as  pos- 
sible, and  as  completely  as  possible.  It  is  an  in- 
tellectual construction — a  working  thought-model 
of  the  world.  In  its  universe  of  discourse  it  keeps 
always  to  experiential  terms  or  verifiable  sym- 
bolical derivates  of  these. 

SCIENCE  AND  COMMON-SENSE. — It  is  somewhat 
remarkable  that  several  investigators  of  distinc- 
tion have  compared  Science  to  common-sense. 
We  are  told  that  "A  most  simple  description  of 
true  science  is  embraced  in  the  words:  Keep  your 
eyes  open  and  apply  common-sense."  Prof.  P. 
G.  Tait  was  wont  to  say  that  Science  aims  at 
giving  "a  common-sense  view  of  the  world  we 
live  in."  Huxley  emphasized  the  idea  that 
"Science  is  nothing  but  trained  and  organized 
common-sense." 

It  seems  to  us  that  it  would  be  nearer  the  truth 


38       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

to  say  that  Science  is  sharply  contrasted  with 
common-sense.  Thus  one  of  the  most  marked 
characteristics  of  science  is  its  critical  quality, 
which  is  just  what  common-sense  lacks.  By 
common-sense  is  usually  meant  either  the  con- 
sensus of  public  opinion,  of  unsystematic  every- 
day thinking,  the  untrustworthiness  of  which  is 
notorious,  or  the  verdict  of  uncritical  sensory 
experience,  which  has  so  often  proved  fallacious. 
It  was  "common-sense"  that  kept  the  planets 
circling  round  the  earth;  it  was  "common- 
sense"  that  refused  to  accept  Harvey's  demon- 
stration of  the  circulation  of  the  blood. 

THE  SUBJECT-MATTER  OF  SCIENCE. — We  have 
already  pointed  out  that  Science  is  independent 
of  any  particular  order  of  facts.  It  takes  the 
knowable  universe  for  its  subject;  it  deals  with 
psychical  as  well  as  physical  processes,  with  Man 
as  much  as  with  Nature;  it  has  to  do  with  every- 
thing to  which  its  methods  can  be  applied.  What 
makes  a  study  scientific  is  not,  of  course,  the 
nature  of  the  things  with  which  it  is  concerned, 
but  the  method  by  which  it  deals  with  these 
things.  A  study  of  a  skylark  is  not  necessarily 
zoological. 

The  subject-matter  of  Science  includes  all 
clearly  defined  facts  of  experience  which  are 
communicable  and  verifiable.  There  are  three 
points  here  to  be  attended  to.  (1)  Before  Science 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  39 

really  begins,  a  preliminary  sifting  is  often  neces- 
sary to  distinguish  supposed  facts  seen  by  the 
untutored  eye  from  clearly  defined  facts.  (2) 
The  facts  that  Science  takes  to  do  with  are 
"real,"  and  "what  is  real  means  something 
which  we  do  not  make,  but  find"  As  Thomas 
Hobbes  of  Malmesbury  said  in  his  great  Levia- 
than (1651):  "Natural  History  is  the  history  of 
such  facts  or  effects  of  nature  as  have  no  de- 
pendence on  man's  will."  (3)  Only  one  self- 
denying  ordinance  has  Science  imposed  on  itself 
in  regard  to  its  subject-matter.  The  ordinance 
is  that  Science  shall  consist  only  of  the  com- 
municable and  verifiable.  However  real  certain 
personal  experiences  may  be  to  us,  we  are  re- 
strained by  boundaries  of  our  own  erection  from 
calling  these  experiences  scientific  territory.  They 
may  be,  but  they  are  not  until  it  is  shown  that 
similar  personal  experiences  will  be  enjoyed  by 
all  who  place  themselves  in  the  appropriate 
conditions. 

DESCRIPTIVE  CHARACTER  OF  SCIENCE. — When 
the  aim  of  Science  is  spoken  of  as  "description" 
the  word  is  used  in  a  slightly  technical  sense. 
There  is  a  preliminary  description  which  is  not 
more  than  a  faithful  record  of  observations — 
the  kind  of  description  which  Linnaeus,  for  in- 
stance, excelled  in  giving  for  a  species  of  plant  or 
animal.  But  this  is  only  intellectual  photography, 


r  A ' 

40       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

good,  but  only  a  means  to  an  end, — to  a  higher 
kind  of  description  which  is  characteristically 
scientific. 

When  we  say  that  the  object  of  Science  is  "the 
complete-  and  consistent  description  of  the  facts 
of  experience  in  the  simplest  possible  terms," 
we  are  adopting  a  view — held  by  such  authorities 
as  Kirchhoff,  Mach,  Karl  Pearson,  and  Ward — 
which  is  to  many  minds  disappointing.  De- 
scription seems  such  a  tame  term  to  apply  to  the 
function  of  Science,  which,  we  are  told,  is  to 
solve  the  riddles  of  the  universe. 

When  we  come  to  think  it  over,  however,  or 
better  still,  when  we  try  to  work  it  out,  "a  com- 
plete and  consistent  description  in  the  simplest 
possible  terms"  is  no  small  achievement.  It 
must  leave  nothing  out,  it  must  be  consistent 
with  itself,  with  the  rest  of  the  science  of  which 
it  forms  a  part,  with  Science  as  a  whole,  with  the 
formal  conditions  of  experience  in  general.  Of 
a  truth,  "complete  and  consistent  description" 
will  tax  our  intellectual  thews  and  sinews.  And 
it  must  be  in  the  simplest  possible  terms,  which 
means  penetrating  analysis,  careful  reduction  to 
the  lowest  common  denominator.  And  the  terms 
must  be  such  as  are  accessible  to  direct  experience 
or  to  indirect  experimental  testing.  Such  is  the 
aim  of  Science. 

Behind    the    first    feeling    of    disappointment 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  41 

with  the  definition  of  Science  as  a  description  of 
the  facts  of  experience,  there  lurks  a  second:  Is 
the  explanation  of  things  to  be  given  up?  Is  it 
not  the  office  of  Science  to  get  behind  description 
and  to  supply  explanation?  The  answer  to  that 
question  is  this:  (a)  The  vulgar  belief  that 
Science  has  "explained  everything"  is  a  hope- 
less misunderstanding.  As  we  shall  afterwards 
find,  it  would  be  nearer  the  truth  to  say  that 
Science  has  explained  nothing.  (6)  Science  does 
not  even  try  to  refer  facts  of  experience  to  any 
ultimate  reality.  That  is  not  its  business,  (c)  In 
a  limited  sense  Science  explains  things,  namely, 
by  reducing  them  to  simpler  terms,  by  discover- 
ing the  conditions  of  their  occurrence,  and  by 
disclosing  their  history.  What  do  we  mean  when 
we  say  that  Physics  has  accounted  for  the  tides, 
or  that  Physiology  has  made  some  function  of 
the  body  much  more  intelligible  than  it  used  to 
be?  What  is  meant  is  that  we  have  gaine"d  a 
general  conception  of  the  nature  of  the  facts  hi 
question,  and  that  we  are  able  to  relate  them  to 
some  general  formula.  In  this  sense  only  does 
Science  explain  things,  and  it  does  not  really  get 
beyond  a  description. 

KNOWLEDGE  OF  CAUSES. — We  must  admit 
that  there  is  good  sense  in  the  popular  impres- 
sion that  it  is  the  aim  of  Science  to  discover  the 
causes  of  things.  What  is  Science  for  if  it  does 


42       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

not  make  our  experience  of  the  world  around  us 
and  of  ourselves  more  intelligible,  and  does  not 
this  increased  intelligibility  depend  in  great  part 
on  the  discovery  of  causes?  Science  has  been 
defined,  indeed,  by  a  distinguished  physiologist, 
Prof.  Gotch,  as  "the  causative  arrangement  of 
phenomena." 

But  how  is  this  consistent  with  the  descriptive 
view  of  Science?  We  have  seen  that  Science  does 
not  "explain"  anything.  But  what  else  is  the 
discovery  of  causes? 

To  answer  this  question  involves  a  brief 
digression  into  a  difficult  and  dangerous  terri- 
tory,— the  meaning  of  cause.  The  first  point  that 
we  must  be  clear  about  is  that  in  the  natural 
sciences,  the  causes  which  are  discovered  are 
"secondary"  or  "caused  causes,"  the  question 
of  ultimate  causes  not  being  raised;  and  that 
they  are  "efficient,"  not  "final"  causes,  not 
giving  any  answer  to  the  question  "Why?"  In 
the  natural  sciences  the  word  cause  is  used  in 
the  sense  indicated  by  Mill, — "a  cause  which  is 
itself  a  phenomenon  without  reference  to  the 
ultimate  cause  of  anything."  Causation,  Mill 
said,  is  simply  uniform  antecedence. 

But  even  after  we  have  become  clear  that 
Science  has  not  to  do  with  a  First  Cause,  or 
with  Final  Causes,  great  ambiguities  remain. 
As  Prof.  Bergson  points  out,  even  in  scientific 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  43 

discourse  three  different  meanings  of  the  term 
"cause"  are  frequently  confused.  "A  cause  may 
act  by  impelling,  by  releasing,  or  by  unwinding. 
The  billiard-ball,  that  strikes  another,  determines 
its  movement  by  impelling.  The  spark  that  ex- 
plodes the  powder  acts  by  releasing.  The  gradual 
relaxing  of  the  spring  that  makes  the  phono- 
graph turn,  unwinds  the  melody  inscribed  on 
the  cy Under:  if  the  melody  which  is  played  be 
the  effect,  and  the  relaxing  of  the  spring  the 
cause,  we  must  say  that  the  cause  acts  by  wn- 
winding. 

"What  distinguishes  these  three  cases  from 
each  other  is  the  greater  or  less  solidarity  between 
the  cause  and  the  effect.  In  the  first,  the  quan- 
tity and  quality  of  the  effect  vary  with  the 
quantity  and  quality  of  the  cause.  In  the  second, 
neither  quality  nor  quantity  of  the  effect  varies 
with  quality  and  quantity  of  the  cause:  the 
effect  is  invariable.  In  the  third,  the  quantity 
of  the  effect  depends  on  the  quantity  of  the 
cause,  but  the  cause  does  not  influence  the 
quality  of  the  effect:  the  longer  the  cylinder 
turns  by  the  action  of  the  spring,  the  more  of  the 
melody  I  shall  hear,  but  the  nature  of  the  melody, 
or  of  the  part  heard,  does  not  depend  on  the 
action  of  the  spring. 

"Only  in  the  first  case,  really,  does  cause  ex- 
plain effect;  in  the  others  the  effect  is  more  or 


44       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

less  given  in  advance,  and  the  antecedent  in- 
voked is — in  different  degrees,  of  course — its 
occasion  rather  than  its  cause." 

In  the  first  case,  where  the  cause  acts  by  im- 
pulsion, what  is  in  the  effect  was  already  in  the 
cause;  the  momentum  of  the  one  billiard-ball 
passes  in  great  part  into  the  other;  the  causal 
explanation  is  complete. 

In  the  second  case,  where  the  cause  acts  by 
releasing,  it  is  an  indispensable  condition;  it 
pulls  the  trigger  apart  from  which  the  effect  will 
not  occur.  But  it  does  not  explain  the  effect. 
The  egg  of  a  sea-urchin  will  develop  without 
being  fertilized  if  it  be  immersed  for  a  short  time 
in  sea-water  to  which  some  magnesium  chloride 
or  the  like  has  been  added,  and  there  are  many 
other  ways  of  inducing  "artificial  parthenogene- 
sis." But  the  cause  in  this  case  in  only  a  trigger- 
puller. 

In  the  third  case,  there  is  more  than  trigger- 
pulling,  but  the  cause  does  not  explain  more 
than  the  rate  or  duration  of  the  effect. 

People  are  wont  to  recognize  themselves  as  the 
"causes"  of  this  or  that  result,  congratulating 
themselves  on  being  the  "happy  cause  of  success," 
blaming  themselves  as  being  the  "unfortunate 
cause  of  disaster,"  and  this  idea  of  an  active  agent 
effecting  a  change  in  something  passive  often 
influences  the  popular  conception  of  causality. 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  45 

Science  seeks  to  free  itself  from  this  anthropo- 
morphism. 

It  is  part  of  the  business  of  Science  to  account 
for  the  occurrence  of  events,  and  it  does  so  by 
disclosing  then*  "efficient  causes."  This  simply 
means  that  the  event  in  question  is  shown  to  be 
determined  by  preceding  events;  one  particular 
set  of  circumstances  giving  rise  to  another. 

Let  us  here  seek  the  aid  of  a  scientific  phi- 
losopher, Prof.  A.  E.  Taylor.  "The  notion  of 
causation  as  a  transaction  between  two  things 
is  replaced  in  the  experimental  sciences  by  the 
conception  of  it  as  merely  the  determination  of  an 
event  by  antecedent  events.  Similarly,  with  the 
disappearance  of  things  as  the  vehicles  of  causal 
processes  falls  the  whole  distinction  between  an 
active  and  a  passive  factor.  As  it  becomes  more 
and  more  apparent  that  the  antecedent  events 
which  condition  an  occurrence  are  a  complex 
plurality  and  include  states  of  what  is  popularly 
called  the  thing  acted  upon  as  well  as  processes 
in  the  so-called  agent,  science  substitutes  for  the 
distinction  between  agent  and  patient  the  con- 
cept of  a  system  of  reciprocally  dependent  inter- 
acting factors.  These  two  substitutions  give  us 
the  current  scientific  conception  of  a  cause  as  the 
*  totality  of  the  conditions'  in  the  presence  of 
which  an  event  occurs,  and  in  the  absence 
of  any  member  of  which  it  does  not  occur. 


46       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

More  briefly,  causation  in  the  current  scientific 
sense  means  sequence  under  definitely  known 
conditions." 

This  view  of  cause  and  effect  as  earlier  and 
later  stages  of  the  same  continuous  process, 
unified  by  a  pervading  principle,  brings  us  back 
to  the  "descriptive"  ideal  of  scientific  explana- 
tion. "According  to  this  doctrine,  advocated 
by  such  eminent  thinkers  as  Kirchhoff,  Mach, 
and  Ostwald  among  physicists,  and,  with  various 
modifications,  Avenarius,  Miinsterberg,  Royce, 
and  James  Ward  among  recent  philosophers,  the 
ultimate  ideal  of  science,  or  at  any  rate  of  physi- 
cal science,  is  simply  the  description  of  the  course 
of  events  by  the  aid  of  the  fewest  and  simplest 
general  formulae.  Why  things  happen  as  they 
do,  it  is  now  said,  is  no  proper  question  for  science; 
its  sole  business  is  to  enable  us  to  calculate  how 
they  happen." 

REDUCTION  TO  SIMPLER  TERMS. — It  is  the 
continual  aim  of  science  to  reduce  the  number 
of  categories  or  necessary  concepts.  This  is 
the  art  of  wielding  William  of  Occam's  razor — 
"Entia  non  sunt  multiplicanda  prseter  necessi- 
tatem."  "Entities  are  not  to  be  multiplied  be- 
yond necessity."  Of  the  effort  to  reduce  the 
categories  let  us  take  a  famous  illustration.  On 
the  occasion  of  his  jubilee  (1896)  as  Professor  of 
Natural  Philosophy,  Lord  Kelvin,  then  a  veteran 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  47 

of  seventy-two,  surprised  many  by  a  remarkable 
utterance:  "One  word  characterizes  the  most 
strenuous  of  the  efforts  for  the  advancement  of 
science  that  I  have  made  perseveringly  during 
fifty -five  years;  that  word  is  failure.  I  know  no 
more  of  electric  and  magnetic  force,  or  of  the 
relation  between  ether,  electricity,  and  ponder- 
able matter  than  I  knew  and  tried  to  teach  my 
students  of  natural  philosophy  fifty  years  ago 
in  nay  first  session  as  Professor." 

It  is  instructive  to  inquire — from  the  experts, 
of  course — what  this  indefatigable  genius,  whose 
life  was  a  sequence  of  brilliant  successes,  meant 
by  speaking  of  failure.  Prof.  Silvanus  P.  Thomp- 
son in  his  Life  of  Lord  Kelvin  explains  the  case. 
"The  trend  of  modern  ultra-physics  with  respect 
to  the  constitution  of  matter  is  towards  the  fol- 
lowing five  categories:  (1)  the  ether,  that  is,  the 
plenum  filling  space;  (2)  the  electron,  conceived 
as  a  plexus  in  the  ether,  probably  of  two  species; 

(3)  the  atom,  a  complex  of  electrons  in  the  ether; 

(4)  the  molecule,  a  specific  group  of  atoms  (or  in 
some  cases  one  atom);    (5)  the  mass,  an  assem- 
blage of  molecules.     Energy  is  involved  in  the 
construction  of  any  of  these  out  of  any  other. 

"Lord  Kelvin's  effort  seems  to  have  been  to 
find  a  theory  to  reduce  the  necessary  concepts 
to  the  smallest  number — matter  and  energy,  or,  by 
means  of  the  vortex  theory,  to  ether  and  energy. 


48       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

In  the  end  he  found  it  necessary  to  bring  in  elec- 
tricity as  well.  But  who  shall  call  this  failure?  !> 
We  understand,  however,  why  Kelvin  himself, 
actuated  by  the  desire  to  reduce  all  physical 
phenomena  within  the  duality  of  matter  and 
energy — an  ideally  scientific  desire — should  con- 
fess in  this  respect  to  failure. 

In  connection  with  the  reduction  of  natural 
processes  to  simpler  terms,  we  must  be  careful 
not  to  allow  the  idea  to  become  tyrannical.  It 
is  not  always  possible  to  effect  a  reduction,  and 
it  is  not  always  relevant.  Moreover,  it  is  not 
always  easy  to  make  sure  that  the  reduction  is 
complete;  some  residual  phenomena  may  escape 
which  are  at  the  very  heart  of  the  matter. 

We  cannot  describe  thinking  in  physiological 
terms,  still  less  in  physical  terms.  By  psycho- 
logical analysis  we  may  perhaps  make  it  more 
intelligible,  but  not  otherwise.  That  is  to  say, 
we  cannot  bring  it  under  any  general  biological 
or  physical  concept.  And  although  we  are  sure 
that  a  thinking  man  developed  in  time  out  of  a 
fertilized  egg-cell,  we  cannot  reduce  the  activities 
of  the  thinking  man  to  what  we  know  of  the  activ- 
ities of  the  cell.  And,  again,  as  we  shall  explain 
more  fully  in  the  section  on  "particular  aims," 
even  if  a  physico-chemical  reduction  were  effected 
of  all  that  goes  on  in  the  cell,  that  would  not  give 
us  a  useful  biological  account  of  its  behaviour, 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  49 

e.  g.  of  its  development.  For  that  requires  a 
historical  explanation. 

LAWS  OF  NATURE. — If  Science  is  only  de- 
scription, what  is  to  be  said  of  the  Laws  of 
Nature,  which  Science  has  discovered,  which, 
moreover,  things  used  to  "obey,"  when  we  were 
at  school?  Let  us  find  an  answer  to  this  question 
in  the  words  of  a  keen  investigator,  who,  having 
helped  to  make  physical  laws,  should  know  some- 
thing about  them.  "We  must  confess,"  says 
Prof.  J.  H.  Poynting,  "that  physical  laws  have 
greatly  fallen  off  in  dignity.  No  long  time  ago 
they  were  quite  commonly  described  as  the  Fixed 
Laws  of  Nature,  and  were  supposed  sufficient  in 
themselves  to  govern  the  universe.  Now  we 
can  only  assign  to  them  the  humble  rank  of 
mere  descriptions,  often  erroneous,  of  similar- 
ities which  we  believe  we  have  observed"  (Ad- 
dress, British  Association,  1889,  p.  616). 

Prof.  Poynting  goes  on  to  say  that  a  "law 
of  nature  explains  nothing — it  has  no  govern- 
ing power,  it  is  but  a  descriptive  formula  which 
the  careless  have  sometimes  personified.  There 
may  be  psychological  and  social  generalizations 
which  really  tell  us  why  this  or  that  occurs,  but 
chemical  and  physical  generalizations  are  wholly 
concerned  with  the  how" 

In  other  words,  concurrently  with  the  change 
in  our  conception  of  physical  law  has  come  a 


50       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

change  in  our  conception  of  physical  explanation. 
The  change  is  in  our  recognizing  that  "  we  explain 
an  event  not  when  we  know  'why'  it  happened, 
but  when  we  know  'how'  it  is  like  something  else 
happening  elsewhere  or  otherwise — when,  in  fact, 
we  can  include  it  as  a  case  described  by  some  law 
already  set  forth.  In  explanation  we  do  not  ac- 
count for  the  event,  but  we  improve  our  account 
of  it  by  likening  it  to  what  we  already  know." 

It  is  a  common  problem  of  science  to  account 
for  a  given  state  of  things, — the  appearance  of 
an  island,  a  cold  summer,  a  succession  of  fine 
sunsets,  a  shower  of  gossamer,  a  butterfly  coming 
out  of  a  cocoon,  and  so  on.  In  what  way  does 
science  account  for  these  things?  By  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  conditions  of  their  coming  about,  and 
in  proportion  to  the  completeness  and  generality 
of  that  description  is  our  satisfaction  with  the 
account  that  is  given.  We  are  particularly  well 
satisfied  when  what  seemed  to  be  an  exception 
is  shown  to  prove  the  rule — that  is  to  say,  when 
an  apparently  strange  event  is  shown  to  con- 
form to  an  established  law. 

Let  us  take  a  concrete  case  given  by  Prof. 
Karl  Pearson  (Grammar  of  Science,  ed.  1900,  p. 
99).  "The  law  of  gravitation  is  a  brief  descrip- 
tion of  how  every  particle  of  matter  in  the  uni- 
verse is  altering  its  motion  with  reference  to  every 
other  particle.  It  does  not  tell  us  why  particles 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  51 

thus  move;  it  does  not  tell  us  why  the  earth  de- 
scribes a  certain  curve  round  the  sun.  It  simply 
resumes,  in  a  few  brief  words,  the  relationships 
observed  between  a  vast  range  of  phenomena. 
It  economizes  thought  by  stating  in  conceptual 
shorthand  that  routine  of  our  perceptions  which 
forms  for  us  the  universe  of  gravitating  matter." 

To  the  same  purpose,  in  his  impressive  His- 
tory of  European  Thought  in  the  Nineteenth  Century T 
Dr.  J.  T.  Merz  writes:  "A  complete  and  simple 
description — admitting  of  calculation — is  the  aim 
of  all  exact  science.  .  .  .  We  shall  not  expect  to 
find  the  ultimate  and  final  causes,  and  science  will 
not  teach  us  to  understand  nature  and  life.  .  .  . 
Science  means  'the  analysis  of  phenomena  as 
to  their  appearance  in  space  and  their  sequence 
in  time.' "  Or  again,  the  true  nature  of  scien- 
tific explanation  is  suggested  by  Kirchhoff's  defi- 
nition of  mechanics,  as  the  science  of  motion, 
whose  object  it  is  "to  describe  completely  and 
in  the  simplest  manner  the  motions  that  occur 
in  nature." 

Huxley  expressed  the  same  general  view  of  the 
Laws  of  Nature  in  a  letter  to  Kingsley  in  1863 : — 

"This  universe  is,  I  conceive,  like  to  a  great 
game  being  played  out,  and  we  poor  mortals 
are  allowed  to  take  a  hand.  By  great  good  for- 
tune the  wiser  among  us  have  made  out  some 
few  of  the  rules  of  the  game,  as  at  present  played. 


52      INTRODUCTION    TO    SCIENCE 

We  call  them  'Laws  of  Nature,'  and  honour 
them  because  we  find  that  if  we  obey  them  we 
win  something  for  our  pains.  The  cards  are 
our  theories  and  hypotheses,  the  tricks  our  experi- 
mental verifications." 

PARTICULAR  AIMS  OF  DIFFERENT  SCIENCES. 
— It  was  Kant  who  said  that  any  branch  of 
knowledge  contains  just  so  much  science  as  it 
contains  of  mathematics;  and  this  is  not  very 
different  from  saying  that  all  science  begins  with 
measurement.  If  this  view  is  pressed  it  leads  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  only  perfect  science  is 
mechanics,  and  that  the  only  quite  precise  sciences 
are  those  dealing  with  processes  which  can  be 
analysed  into  the  motions  of  ideal  corpuscles. 

This  seems  to  us  an  impracticable  ideal  of 
precision,  for  it  must  be  noted  that  facts  whose 
mechanical  analysis  is  not  within  sight  need  not 
on  that  account  be  treated  unscientifically. 
They  may  be  measured,  though  not  with  the 
same  measure  as  is  used  for  the  stars  in  their 
courses.  Complex  as  are  the  inborn  variations 
of  plants  and  animals,  they  can  be  treated  by 
the  same  statistical  methods  as  are  used  in 
recording  the  simple  phenomena  observed  when 
dice  are  thrown  ten  thousand  times.  Myste- 
rious as  are  the  facts  of  inheritance,  the  expert 
can  occasionally  prophesy  safely  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  chicks  which  will  emerge  from  an  unhatched 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  53 

setting  of  eggs.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  precise 
measurement  in  physiology  and  psychology  which 
has  led  or  is  leading  to  exact  science,  though  not 
to  mechanical  re-description. 

Moreover,  to  return  to  a  consideration  referred 
to  in  the  section  on  reduction,  we  are  very  strongly 
of  opinion  that  Biology  does  not  necessarily  make 
progress  towards  perfection  by  the  mechanical 
analysis  of  changes  that  go  on  in  living  bodies. 
That  kind  of  analysis  or  reduction  to  the  lowest 
terms  is  an  engine  of  research  which  must  be 
worked  for  all  it  is  worth,  but  it  does  not  directly 
answer  any  biological  questions.  For  Biology 
has  a  particular  end — that  of  describing  the  life 
of  plants  and  animals,  and  that  end  is  not 
necessarily  achieved  by  discoveries  in  the  physics 
and  chemistry  of  living  bodies.  We  watch  a 
bird  building  its  nest.  We  know  that  there  is 
an  intricate  sequence  of  physical  and  chemical 
changes  going  on  in  its  body.  We  feel  sure  that 
nothing  occurs  that  contradicts  any  of  the  es- 
tablished laws  of  chemistry  and  physics.  We 
do  not  know  whether  a  complete  chemical  and 
physical  description  of  what  occurs  is  realizable 
or  not.  We  know  that  it  has  not  been  given. 
But  we  feel  sure  that  if  it  were  given  it  would 
not  directly  help  us  to  understand  the  bird  build- 
ing its  nest.  For  that  requires  a  different  kind 
of  description — with  different  concepts,  which 


54       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

recognize  the  bird  as  an  historic  being  with  a 
mind  of  its  own. 

Comte  maintained  very  strongly  that  mechan- 
ical principles  broke  down  as  inapplicable  be- 
yond the  physical  order,  but  that  is  not  quite 
the  point.  They  are  applicable  in  Biology;  they 
have  been  of  great  service  as  a  means  of  inves- 
tigation hi  Biology;  their  application  has  brought 
the  characteristically  vital  into  bolder  relief.  But 
the  point  is  that  they  are  not  exhaustive  of  what 
occurs,  and  that  they  do  not  give  us  distinc- 
tively biological  descriptions. 

It  must  be  clearly  understood  that  Biology 
has  an  aim  far  wider  than  that  of  giving  an 
account  of  the  physical  and  chemical  processes 
that  go  on  in  the  living  body.  It  has  to  tell 
the  story  of  individual  development,  the  story  of 
racial  evolution,  and  the  story  of  the  everyday 
behaviour  of  the  organism.  It  has  to  recognize 
the  past  living  on  in  the  present,  the  individ- 
uality and  spontaneity  of  the  creature,  and, 
often  at  least,  a  dramatic  element  in  life — much, 
in  fact,  that  requires  a  kind  of  description  very 
different  from  that  of  Chemistry  and  Physics. 
In  the  same  way  it  might  be  shown  that  Psy- 
chology has  a  particular  aim  of  its  own,  which  is 
distinct  from  that  of  Biology. 

More  generally  stated,  the  important  idea 
which  we  wish  to  make  clear  is  that  what  defines 


THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  55 

a  science  is  not  its  subject-matter,  but  its  point 
of  view, — the  particular  kind  of  question  it 
asks.  The  lark  singing  at  heaven's  gate  is  a 
fact  of  experience  which  may  be  studied  phy- 
sically, biologically,  and  psychologically,  but 
a  complete  answer  to  the  questions  asked  by 
Physics  would  not  answer  those  asked  by  Biol- 
ogy, still  less  those  asked  by  Psychology. 

THE  EVOLUTIONARY  AIM. — The  end  of  Science 
is  not  reached  in  the  formulation  of  things  as 
they  are,  it  has  also  an  historical  or  evolution- 
ary aim.  In  every  department  of  knowledge 
the  question  we  are  continually  asking  is — "How 
have  these  things  come  to  be?  "  The  solar  system 
is  traced  back  to  a  vast  nebula. 

"The  solid  earth  on  which  we  tread 
In  tracts  of  fluent  heat  began." 

There  are  hints  of  inorganic  evolution,  one  kind 
of  matter  giving  rise  to  another,  as  Uranium 
to  Radium.  There  is  a  history  if  not  a  sermon 
in  every  stone.  And  when  we  come  to  organ- 
isms we  find  evolution  in  the  stricter  sense,  race 
giving  rise  to  race  by  processes  of  slow  trans- 
formation still  very  imperfectly  understood.  The 
conception  extends  to  language  and  literature,  to 
art  and  institutions,  to  everything.  It  is  in  this 
genetic  view  of  Nature  and  of  Man  that  Science 
completes  itself,  and  joins  hands  with  Philosophy. 


56       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

SUMMARY. — The  aim  of  Science  is  to  describe 
the  impersonal  facts  of  experience  in  verifiable 
terms  as  exactly  as  possible,  as  simply  as  possible, 
and  as  completely  as  possible.  It  is  an  intellectual 
construction, — a  working  thought-model  of  the  world. 
In  its  "universe  of  discourse"  it  keeps  always  to 
experiential  terms,  or  verifiable  derivatives  of  these. 
It  is  as  far  on  one  side  of  common-sense  as  poetry 
is  on  the  other.  It  deals  with  "facts"  which  have 
no  dependence  on  man's  will,  which  must  be  com- 
municable and  verifiable.  It  is  descriptive  formu- 
lation, not  interpretative  explanation.  The  causes 
that  Science  seeks  after  are  secondary  causes,  not 
ultimate  causes;  effective  causes,  not  final  causes. 
Indeed,  its  causes  and  effects  are  simply  earlier 
and  later  stages  of  the  same  continuous  process. 
Science  always  seeks  to  reduce  things  to  a  common 
denominator  and  to  reduce  the  number  of  categories 
or  necessary  concepts.  The  "Laws  of  Nature" 
are  descriptive  formulae  in  "conceptual  shorthand" 
of  the  routine  of  our  perceptions.  Each  science  has 
its  distinctive  questions  and  concepts  of  its  own. 
The  end  of  Science  is  not  reached  in  the  formula- 
tion of  things  as  they  are,  it  has  also  to  describe 
how  they  have  come  to  be. 


CHAPTER  HI 

SCIENTIFIC  METHOD 

"Induction  for  deduction,  with  a  view  to 
construction." — COMTE. 

The  Logic  of  Science — The  Keen  Eye — Collecting  Data — 
Measurement — Arrangement  of  Data — Analysis  and  Re- 
duction— Hypothesis — Test  Experiments  and  Control 
Experiments — Formulation — The  Scientific  Use  of  the 
Imagination — The  Fundamental  Postulate  of  Science — 
Summary. 

SCIENCE  is  not  wrapped  up  with  any  particular 
body  of  facts;  it  is  characterized  as  an  intellectual 
attitude.  It  is  not  tied  down  to  any  peculiar 
methods  of  inquiry;  it  is  simply  sincere  critical 
thought,  which  admits  conclusions  only  when 
these  are  based  on  evidence.  We  may  get  a  good 
lesson  hi  scientific  method  from  a  business  man 
meeting  some  new  practical  problem,  from  a 
lawyer  sifting  evidence,  or  from  a  statesman 
framing  a  constructive  bill. 

How,  then,  does  science  differ  from  ordinary 
knowledge?  It  is  criticised,  systematized,  and 
generalized  knowledge.  That  is  to  say,  the  stu- 
dent of  science  takes  more  pains  than  the  man 
57 


58       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

in  the  street  does  to  get  at  the  facts;  he  is  not 
content  with  sporadic  knowledge,  but  will  have 
as  large  a  body  of  facts  as  he  can  get;  he  systema- 
tizes these  data  and  his  inferences  from  them,  and 
sums  up  in  a  generalization  or  formula.  In  all 
this  he  observes  certain  logical  processes,  certain 
orders  of  inference,  and  we  call  this  scientific 
method. 

THE  LOGIC  OF  SCIENCE. — Of  modes  of  inference 
there  are  no  more  than  there  were  in  the  days  of 
Aristotle,  who  recognized  three:  (a)  from  particu- 
lar to  particular  (analogical  reasoning),  (6)  from 
particulars  to  general  (inductive  reasoning),  (c) 
from  general  to  particular  (deductive  reasoning). 
Let  us  take  a  few  examples. 

(a)  Analogical  Reasoning. — The  geologist  tells 
us  the  story  of  the  making  of  the  earth  and 
describes  what  happened  millions  of  years  ago, 
and  in  many  cases  he  relies  on  analogical  reason- 
ing. From  the  consequences  of  particular  happen- 
ings to-day  he  infers  the  efficient  causes  of  events 
that  happened  in  the  Devonian  age.  He  sheds 
the  light  of  the  present  on  the  dark  abysses  of 
the  past. 

When  Darwin  argued  from  the  particular  vari- 
ations which  he  observed  in  his  domesticated 
pigeons  and  cultivated  plants  to  variations  which 
might  have  occurred  in  unthinkably  distant  aeons, 
he  was  trusting  to  analogical  reasoning.  Often 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  59 

it  is  the  only  alternative,  but  it  should  be  used 
with  restraint  in  arguing  from  the  present  to  re- 
mote antiquity,  for  it  is  obvious  that  some  impor- 
tant difference  between  the  conditions  then  and 
those  of  to-day  may  invalidate  the  argument. 

(b)  Inductive    Reasoning. — This    is    argument 
from  particulars  to  the  universal,  and  science  is 
full  of  illustrations.    "  Galileo  had  smooth  inclined 
planes  made;    and  then,  by  rolling  balls  down 
them  and  measuring  the  times  and  squares  of 
descent,  he  discovered  inductively  that  the  space 
fallen  is  always  as  the  square  of  the  time  of  fall- 
ing; so  that,  if  a  body  in  one  second  of  time  falls 
about  sixteen  feet,  in  two  seconds  it  will  have 
fallen  sixty-four  feet,  four  times  as  far  (time  2- 
squared),  in  three  seconds  one  hundred  and  forty- 
four  feet,  nine  times  as  far  (time  3-squared)." 

The  inductive  method  may  almost  be  called 
Baconian,  for  Bacon  was  the  first  to  show  that 
the  sound  way  of  studying  Nature  was  to  work 
up  from  particulars  to  principles.  He  called  his 
method  the  new  instrument — the  Novum  Orga- 
num.  It  was  founded  on  the  principle  that  things 
which  are  always  present,  absent,  or  varying 
together,  are  casually  connected. 

(c)  Deductive    Reasoning. — This    is    argument 
from  the  universal  to  particulars,  the  kind  of 
inference  which  enables  the  long  arm  of  science 
to  reach  back  through  the  ages  that  are  past  and 


60       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

forward  into  those  which  are  to  come.  By  deduc- 
tion Neptune  was  discovered  before  it  was  seen. 
By  deduction,  given  three  good  observations  of 
a  passing  comet,  we  can  predict  its  return  to  a 
night. 

As  a  good  example,  cited  by  Prof.  Case,  of  the 
abuse  of  the  deductive  method  by  one  of  the 
greatest  of  all  intellects,  we  may  recall  an  argu- 
ment used  by  Aristotle  to  support  the  old  circular 
astronomy.  The  stars  are  eternal  and  must  have 
eternal  motion.  The  only  eternal  motion  is  circu- 
lar. Therefore  the  stars  move  in  circles  round  the 
earth.  "It  is  a  case  of  two  hypothetical  premises 
leading  to  a  false  conclusion.  Every  step  is  false. 
There  is  nothing  for  it  but  experience.  The  real 
question  is  how  the  stars  move  in  point  of  fact." 

It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  this  little  book  to 
enter  into  a  detailed  discussion  of  the  various 
scientific  methods — such  as  the  mathematical,  the 
empirical,  the  explanatory,  and  the  verificatory, 
which  Mill  distinguished.  But  there  are  two 
important  considerations  to  be  borne  in  mind, 
— first,  that  great  conclusions  seem  often  to  be 
reached  by  a  flash  of  imaginative  genius,  perhaps 
the  expression  of  long-continued  processes  of  sub- 
conscious cerebration;  and,  second,  that  in  actual 
practice  induction  and  deduction  are  mingled  in 
intricate  ways. 

In  many  instances  we  find  that  experiment  and 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  61 

induction  have  afforded  a  basis  from  which  deduc- 
tion has  reached  far  beyond  experience.  The 
supreme  illustration  of  the  power  of  combined 
methods  is  to  be  found  in  Newton's  Principia,  for 
here,  as  Prof.  Case  has  shown  in  detail,  the 
method  is  neither  the  deductive  Aristotelian,  nor 
the  inductive  Baconian,  but  both;  it  is  the  inter- 
action of  induction  and  deduction  in  a  mixed 
method.  "The  full  title,  Philosophise  Naturalis 
Principia  Maihematica,  implies  a  combination  of 
induction  and  deduction.  It  is  also  a  combination 
of  analysis  and  synthesis:  it  proceeds  from  facts 
to  causes  as  well  as  from  causes  to  facts." 

THE  KEEN  EYE. — We  use  this  phrase,  meta- 
phorically as  well  as  literally,  to  describe  what 
may  be  called  a  preliminary  condition  of  all 
scientific  investigation — one  certainly  that  has  led 
to  many  discoveries.  We  mean  the  observant 
habit,  the  alert  mind,  the  appetized  intelligence, 
the  inquisitive  spirit,  which  notices  whatever  is 
unusual,  which  sees  a  problem  in  the  most  com- 
monplace occurrences.  It  is  difficult  to  define 
this  quality,  which  is  at  its  highest  when  sensory 
alertness  is  combined  with  a  habit  of  wondering 
and  pondering. 

Of  Clerk  Maxwell,  who  "enriched  the  inherit- 
ance left  by  Newton  and  consolidated  the  work 
of  Faraday,"  it  is  said  that  his  first  recollection 
was  that  of  lying  on  the  grass  before  his  father's 


62       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

house,  and  looking  at  the  sun,  and  wondering.  It 
was  said  of  Edward  Forbes,  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  of  British  naturalists,  that  "he  had  a 
hawk's  eye  to  see  in  a  moment  any  plant  that  was 
new."  And  it  is  our  impression,  based  on  the 
history  of  science,  that — apart  from  genius — most 
discoveries  have  been  psychologically  due  to  a 
combination  of  the  keen  eye  with  the  inquisitive 
spirit.  Let  us  recall  what  Tyndall  has  told  us  of 
the  way  in  which  Robert  Mayer  was  led  to  his 
theory  of  energy. 

"In  the  summer  of  1840,  as  he  himself  informs 
us,  he  was  at  Java,  and  there  observed  that  the 
venous  bfood  of  some  of  his  patients  had  a  singu- 
larly bright  red  colour.  The  observation  riveted 
his  attention;  he  reasoned  upon  it,  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  brightness  of  the  colour 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  a  less  amount  of  oxida- 
tion sufficed  to  keep  up  the  temperature  of  the 
body  in  a  hot  climate  than  in  a  cold  one.  The 
darkness  of  the  venous  blood  he  regarded  as  the 
visible  sign  of  the  energy  of  oxidation"  (Tyndall, 
1876,  p.  274). 

He  was  drawn  to  the  whole  question  of  animal 
heat,  to  the  relation  between  heat  generated  and 
work  done,  and  to  his  remarkable  contributions 
to  the  mechanical  theory  of  heat  in  particular, 
and  to  the  theory  of  energy  in  general.  All  roads 
lead  to  Rome,  and  he  must  be  a  bold  man  who 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  63 

will  declare  any  of  Nature's  beckonings  to  be 
unworthy  of  attention. 

COLLECTING  DATA. — The  first  step  in  beginning 
the  scientific  study  of  a  problem  is  to  collect  the 
data,  which  are  or  ought  to  be  "facts."  And  by 
this  we  mean, in  Prof. Taylor's  words,  "experiences 
which  we  cannot  altogether  fashion  as  we  please 
to  suit  our  own  convenience,  or  our  own  sense  of 
what  is  fitting  or  desirable,  but  have  largely  to 
accept  as  they  come  to  us."  As  is  often  said, 
"Facts_are  chiels  that  winna^_ding" — that  is  to 
say,  they  cannot  be  coerced  or  denied,  and  they 
are  verifiable  by  all  who  have  equal  opportunities 
and  equipment  for  experiencing  them. 

In  the  so-called  "natural  sciences"  this  collec- 
tion of  data  implies  observation,  and  much 
depends  on  the  degree  of  excellence  which  the 
observer  attains.  The  fundamental  virtues  are 
clearness,  precision,  impartiality,  and  caution. 
Common  vices  are  rough  and  ready  records,  reli- 
ance on  vague  impressions,  acceptance  of  second- 
hand evidence,  and  picking  the  facts  that  suit. 
Since  observers  are  fallible  mortals,  we  readily 
understand  the  importance  of  co-operation,  of 
independent  observations  on  the  same  subject, 
of  instrumental  means  of  increasing  the  range 
and  delicacy  of  our  senses,  and  of  automatic 
impersonal  methods  of  registration  such  as  pho- 
tography supplies. 


64       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

MEASUREMENT. — In  collecting  data  for-  scien- 
tific thinking  the  fundamental  virtue  is  accuracy, 
and  it  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  its  importance. 
Science  begins  with  measurement,  with  which  we 
include,  of  course,  every  method  of  precise  reg- 
istration. 

Many  advances,  Lord  Kelvin  said,  have  owed 
their  origin  to  protracted  drudgery.  "Accurate 
and  minute  measurement  seems  to  the  non-scien- 
tific imagination  a  less  lofty  and  dignified  work 
than  looking  for  something  new.  But  nearly  all 
the  grandest  discoveries  of  science  have  been  but 
the  rewards  of  accurate  measurement  and  patient, 
long-continued  labour  in  the  minute  sifting  of 
numerical  results."  In  illustration  he  instanced 
the  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation  by  Newton, 
Faraday's  theory  of  specific  inductive  capacity, 
Joule's  law  of  thermo-dynamics,  and  that  of  the 
continuity  of  the  gaseous  and  liquid  states  by 
Andrews. 

One  of  the  most  instructive  recent  illustrations 
of  the  value  of  attending  to  little  hints  is  to  be 
found  in  the  story  of  the  discovery  of  argon.  Lord 
Rayleigh  made  a  number  of  precise  weighings  of 
the  oxygen  contained  in  a  carefully  weighed  and 
measured  glass  flask  at  15°  C.  and  760  mm. 
There  were  very  minute  differences  in  the  weights 
recorded, — affecting  the  fourth  decimal  place.  He 
then  made  a  series  of  weighings  of  pure  nitrogen 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  65 

in  the  same  vessel,  and  took  note  of  the  minute 
differences  in  the  weights  recorded.  Especially 
were  there  differences  in  the  weighings  of  nitrogen 
made  from  certain  of  its  compounds  and  nitrogen 
obtained  by  removing  oxygen,  water,  traces  of 
carbonic  acid  and  other  impurities  from  atmo- 
spheric ah-.  As  the  differences  between  the 
weighings  seemed  greater  than  the  possibilities  of 
error,  the  possibility  suggested  itself  that  the 
nitrogen  derived  from  the  air  might  not  be  quite 
pure. 

Now  in  1785  Cavendish,  in  his  analysis  of  air, 
had  also  tried  whether  the  removal  of  nearly 
twenty -one  volumes  of  oxygen  and  a  small  quan- 
tity of  carbonic  acid  from  one  hundred  volumes  of 
atmospheric  air  left  pure  nitrogen.  His  testing  left 
a  residual  bubble  of  something.  It  might,  Caven- 
dish thought,  have  been  introduced  accidentally 
during  the  manipulations,  but  he  also  suggested 
that  it  might  be  a  gas  neither  nitrogen  nor  oxygen, 
and,  if  so,  that  there  was  about  one  volume  of  it 
to  every  hundred  of  atmospheric  nitrogen.  For 
more  than  a  century  the  question  rested. 

But  in  1894  Lord  Rayleigh  and  Sir  William 
Ramsay,  in  considering  the  discrepancies  in  the 
weighings  of  atmospheric  nitrogen,  remembered 
Cavendish's  residual  bubble,  and  Sir  William 
Ramsay  speedily  discovered  that  it  consisted  of 
argon  (about  one  and  a  hah"  times  as  heavy  as 


66       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

nitrogen)  and  some  other  elementary  gases.  The 
discovery  was  the  reward  of  precision  and  a  sig- 
nal instance  of  the  value  of  attending  to  even 
minute  discrepancies. 

It  is  doubtless  a  pity  when  circumstances  lead 
a  man  of  science  to  spend  his  whole  life  in  collect- 
ing data  and  in  measurement,  but  it  is  ungenerous 
and  unwise  to  speak  of  this  in  a  superior  way  as 
"hodman's  work."  Let  us  take  an  illustration 
from  the  volume  of  Astronomy  by  Mr.  Hinks — 
the  somewhat  monotonous  and  quantitative  work 
of  star-cataloguing,  which  Hipparchus  is  supposed 
to  have  begun  more  than  a  century  before  Christ, 
which  is  continued  even  unto  this  day.  What  is 
the  use  of  it?  The  author  points  out  (1)  that  it 
forms  an  essential  basis  for  the  applications  of 
astronomy — the  determination  of  time,  naviga- 
tion, surveying;  (2)  that  without  good  star  places 
we  can  have  no  theory  of  the  motions  in  the  solar 
system;  and  (3)  that  "without  accurate  catalogues 
of  the  stars  we  can  know  nothing  of  the  grander 
problems  of  the  universe,  the  motion  of  our 
sun  among  the  stars,  or  of  the  stars  among 
themselves." 

In  addition  to  its  necessity  in  furnishing 
materials  for  Science,  there  is  great  educational 
value  in  the  discipline  of  making  definite  and 
accurate  measurements.  Speaking  of  its  utility, 
even  for  those  students  who  were  destined  for  the 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  67 

Church,  Lord  Kelvin  said  in  an  address  at  Bangor: 
"There  is  one  thing  I  feel  strongly  in  respect  to 
investigation  in  physical  or  chemical  laboratories 
— it  leaves  no  room  for  shady,  doubtful  distinc- 
tions between  truth,  half-truth,  whole  falsehood. 
In  the  laboratory  everything  tested  or  tried  is 
found  either  true  or  not  true.  Every  result  is 
true.  Nothing  not  proved  true  is  a  result;  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  doubtfulness."  It  is  very 
interesting  that  Clerk  Maxwell  should  speak  in 
one  sentence  of  "those  aspirations  after  accuracy 
in  measurement,  and  justice  in  action,  which  we 
reckon  among  our  noblest  attributes  as  men." 

ARRANGEMENT  OF  DATA. — In  many  cases  the 
accumulation  of  data  has  to  be  followed  by  not 
less  laborious  arrangement.  The  facts  have  to 
be  classified,  and  that  from  different  points  of 
view,  and  without  prejudice.  The  object  of  this 
is  to  discover  correlations  and  uniformities  of 
sequence.  In  dealing  with  an  enormous  mass 
of  facts  in  regard  to  the  Migration  of  Birds, 
one  of  the  leading  inquirers  into  this  fascinat- 
ing subject,  Mr.  Eagle  Clarke,  of  the  Royal  Scot- 
tish Museum,  required  more  time  for  the  orderly 
classification  of  the  data  than  was  required  for 
their  collection. 

Just  as  observation  is  made  incalculably  more 
effective  by  the  use  of  instruments,  so  in  classify- 
ing and  registering  facts,  the  use  of  statistical 


68       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

devices — curves  and  the  like — is  invaluable,  as  is 
well  illustrated  in  their  successful  application  to 
the  difficult  problems  of  biometries,  notably  of 
variation  and  heredity. 

Bad  observation  may  invalidate  the  whole 
scientific  process,  but  carelessness  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  data  may  be  equally  fatal.  It  has  often 
happened  that  attending  to  some  minute  discrep- 
ancy revealed  in  the  classification  of  data  has  led 
to  the  elucidation  of  the  whole  problem.  Thus  it 
has  become  a  maxim  that  no  apparent  departure 
from  the  rule  should  be  treated  as  trivial.  It  may 
mean  an  error  of  observation;  it  has  often  led, 
e.  g.  in  Chemistry  and  Astronomy,  to  an  impor- 
tant clue. 

ANALYSIS  AND  REDUCTION. — In  many  scientific 
inquiries  it  is  necessary  to  pass  below  the  every- 
day facts  of  experience  to  those  that  underlie 
them.  There  is  a  process  of  analysis  or  reduction 
to  simpler  terms.  In  order  to  understand  the 
first  facts  better  we  try  to  resolve  them  into 
others,  which  can  be  described  in  simpler  or  more 
generalized  terms.  There  are  all  sorts  of  analyses 
and  reductions — dissecting  an  annual,  cutting 
microscopic  sections  of  a  rock,  making  a  chemical 
analysis  of  a  substance — and  their  utilization  is 
indispensable. 

HYPOTHESIS. — We  mean  by  a  scientific  hypoth- 
esis a  provisional  formulation,  a  tentative  solu- 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  69 

tion,  and  it  is  part  of  the  scientific  method  to 
make  them  and  test  them.  While  there  seems 
to  be  no  doubt  that  some  scientific  conclusions 
have  arisen  in  the  mind  of  the  investigator  as 
if  by  a  flash  of  insight,  in  the  majority  of  cases 
the  process  of  discovery  is  a  slower  one.  The 
scientific  imagination  devises  a  possible  solution 
— an  hypothesis — and  the  investigator  proceeds 
to  test  it.  He  makes  intellectual  keys  and  then 
tries  whether  they  fit  the  lock.  If  the  hypothesis 
does  not  fit,  it  is  rejected  and  another  is  made. 
The  scientific  workshop  is  full  of  discarded  keys. 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  whether  the*  hy- 
pothesis is  reached  imaginatively  or  laboriously, 
whether  it  is  suggested  by  induction  from  many 
particulars  or  as  a  deduction  from  some  previously 
established  conclusion,  it  has  to  be  tried  and 
tested  until  it  rises  to  the  rank  of  a  theory.  « t 

TEST  EXPERIMENTS  AND  CONTROL  EXPERI- 
MENTS.— The  distinction  between  observation 
and  experiment  is  not  of  much  importance.  In 
the  former  we  study  the  natural  course  of  events; 
in  the  latter  we  arrange  artificially  for  certain 
things  to  occur.  The  method  of  experiment 
saves  time  and  we  can  make  surer  of  the  condi- 
tions. In  studying  the  effect  of  electric  discharges 
on  living  plants,  it  would  be  worse  than  tedious 
to  wait  for  the  lightning  to  strike  trees  in  our 
vicinity,  so  we  mimic  the  natural  phenomena  in 


70       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  laboratory.  In  studying  phenomena  like 
hybridization,  we  are  obviously  on  much  surer 
ground  with  experiment  than  with  observation 
in  natural  conditions. 

Alterations  in  the  conditions  of  occurrence 
which  it  might  be  difficult  or  impossible  to 
arrange  in  Nature  can  be  readily  effected  in  the 
laboratory.  It  is  thus  possible  to  discover  which 
of  the  antecedents  are  causally  important.  Cattle 
begin  to  die  of  some  mysterious  epidemic  disease; 
bacteria  are  found  to  be  abundant  in  the  dead 
bodies;  it  is  conjectured  that  the  disease  is 
bacterial.  Some  of  the  bacteria  are  peculiar,  and 
it  is  observed  that  they  occur  in  all  the  victims. 
The  hypothesis  is  made  that  this  particular  species 
of  bacterium  is  responsible  for  the  disease.  But 
since  the  epoch-making  experiments  of  Koch 
which  showed  that  Bacillus  anthracis  is  the  cause 
of  anthrax  (splenic  fever,  or  wool-sorter's  disease 
in  man),  no  one  dreams  of  stopping  short  of  the 
experimental  test.  The  suspected  bacillus  is 
isolated,  a  pure  culture  is  made,  this  is  injected 
into  a  healthy  animal,  and  if  the  disease  ensues 
the  proof  is  complete. 

Besides  furnishing  fresh  data,  an  experiment 
may  be  of  use  at  a  later  stage  in  scientific  proce- 
dure, namely,  in  putting  the  hypothesis  to  the 
proof;  and  much  of  the  success  of  a  scientific 
worker  often  depends  on  his  ingenuity  in  think- 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  71 

ing  out  these  crucial  or  test  experiments.  Let  us 
notice  two  or  three  examples. 

When  bacteriology  was  still  in  its  infancy,  and 
Pasteur  was  still  fighting  for  his  discovery  that 
putrefaction  was  due  to  the  life  of  micro-organ- 
isms in  the  rotting  substance,  he  put  his  theory 
to  a  crucial  test  which  is  continually  repeated 
now-a-days  as  a  class  experiment  or  for  practical 
purposes  in  the  preservation  of  various  foods.  He 
took  some  readily  putrescible  substances,  steri- 
lized them  by  boiling,  and  hermetically  sealed 
the  vessel.  No  putrefaction  occurred. 

When  Von  Siebold  and  his  fellow-workers 
had  convinced  themselves  indirectly  that  certain 
bladderworms,  e.  g.  those  which  occur  in  the  pig 
and  the  ox,  were  the  young  stages  of  certain 
tapeworms  which  occur  in  man,  they  made  the 
crucial  and  almost  heroic  experiment  of  swallow- 
ing the  bladderworms.  By  becoming  soon  after- 
wards infected  with  the  tapeworms  they  proved 
the  truth  of  their  theory. 

Or  let  us  take  a  simple  case  where  the  method 
of  exclusion  is  combined  with  a  control  experi- 
ment. The  freshwater  crayfish  has  a  sense  of 
smell,  as  is  proved  by  the  rapid  way  in  which  it 
retreats  from  strong  odours.  Investigation  led 
to  the  hypothesis  that  this  sense  was  located  in 
the  antennules  or  smaller  feelers.  This  was 
verified  by  observing  that  a  crayfish  bereft  of 


72       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

these  appendages  did  not  react  to  a  strong  odour, 
whereas — here  the  control  experiment  comes  in 
— in  exactly  the  same  conditions  and  to  the  same 
stimulus  another  crayfish  with  its  antennules 
intact  did  actively  respond.  Pursuing  precisely 
the  same  two  methods,  the  investigator  proved 
that  the  seat  of  smell  was  in  peculiarly  shaped 
bristles  on  the  outer  fork  of  the  antennules. 

A  great  experimental  philosopher  is  reported 
to  have  said:  "Show  me  the  scientific  man  who 
never  made  a  mistake,  and  I  will  show  you  one 
who  never  made  a  discovery."  This  was  in  allu- 
sion to  the  everyday  method  of  "trial  and  error," 
which  is  part  of  the  logic  of  experimenting. 
Different  hypotheses  are  tried  till  the  one  that 
fits  the  facts  is  found. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  a  scientific  con- 
clusion may  sometimes  be  safely  accepted  before 
its  demonstration  is  visibly  complete,  a  famous 
instance  being  Harvey's  demonstration  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood  (1628).  From  the  struc- 
ture of  the  heart,  the  observed  flow  in  different 
parts  of  the  system,  and  the  valves  in  the  veins,  he 
almost  completely  demonstrated  the  circulation. 
Only  one  step  was  awanting.  "Harvey's  diffi- 
culty lay  in  the  circumstance  that  as  the  micro- 
scope was  not  in  use,  no  known  path  existed  by 
which  the  blood  could  be  conveyed  from  the 
smallest  arteries  into  the  smallest  veins;  there  was 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  73 

a  gap  in  the  vascular  series,  but  his  demonstra- 
tion made  it  a  logical  certainty  that  a  bridge 
across  this  gap  was  in  existence"  (Gotch,  1906, 
p.  47).  Although  it  was  not  till  1661  that  Mal- 
pighi  saw  the  blood  flowing  through  transparent 
capillaries  from  the  smallest  arteries  to  the 
smallest  veins,  Harvey's  demonstration  might 
have  passed  at  once  into  physiological  science 
(which  was  far  from  being  its  reception)  for  the 
simple  reason  that  it  was  an  observed  fact  that 
the  blood  goes  on  ceaselessly  flowing  throughout 
life.  The  system  works,  therefore  the  unseen 
bridge  across  the  gap  must  be  there. 

FORMULATION. — The  final  step  in  scientific 
method  is  to  sum  up  what  has  been  proved  in 
terms  as  clear  and  terse  as  possible.  A  theory  is 
stated,  a  formula  is  invented,  or,  more  frequently 
a  new  set  of  facts  is  brought  into  subjection  to 
an  old  law.  The  theory  must  fit  the  facts;  it 
must  be  a  complete  and  consistent  description; 
its  terms  must  be  either  directly  experimental, 
or  accessible  to  experimental  tests;  and  it  must 
be  impersonal  to  this  extent,  that  it  will  appear 
valid  to  all  who  can  appreciate  the  evidence. 

"The  final  touchstone,"  Prof.  Karl  Pearson 
says,  "is  equal  validity  for  all  normally  consti- 
tuted minds."  Moreover,  the  theory  must  be 
compared  with  already  established  conclusions. 
If  there  is  any  discrepancy  between  the  new  and 


74       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

old,  some  reconsideration  of  the  one  or  the  other, 
or  of  both,  will  be  necessary. ' 

Lord  Kelvin  was  wont  to  emphasize  the  dis- 
tinction between  two  stages  of  progress  in  science, 
the  "Natural  History"  stage  and  the  "Natural 
Philosophy"  stage.  In  his  introductory  lecture 
(1846)  as  Professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  in 
Glasgow  University — a  lecture  which  he  repeated 
for  over  fifty  years — he  said:  "In  the  progres- 
sive study  of  natural  phenomena,  that  is,  the 
phenomena  of  the  external  world,  the  first  work 
is  to  observe  and  classify  facts;  the  process  of 
inductive  generalization  follows,  hi  which  the 
laws  of  nature  are  the  objects  of  research.  These 
two  stages  of  science  are  designated  by  the  ex- 
pressions' of  natural  history  and  natural  philos- 
ophy." In  other  words,  there  is  an  observational 
and  descriptive  stage,  followed  by  generaliza- 
tion and  formulation. 

It  is  necessary,  then,  to  make  a  clear  distinc- 
tion between  the  raw  materials  of  science  and 
the  systematizations  which  raise  these  to  a 
higher  power.  As  Prof.  P.  G.  Tait  once  said: 
"Descriptive  botany,  natural  history,  volumes 
of  astronomical  observations,  etc.,  are  collec- 
tions of  statements,  often  facts,  from  which 
scientific  truth  may  ultimately  be  extracted,  but 
they  are  not  science.  Science  begins  to  dawn, 
but  only  to  dawn,  when  a  Copernicus,  and  after 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  75 

him  a  Kepler  or  a  Galilei,  sets  to  work  on  these 
raw  materials,  and  sifts  from  them  their  essence. 
She  bursts  into  full  daylight  only  when  a  Newton 
extracts  the  quintessence.  There  has  been,  as 
yet,  but  one  Newton;  there  have  not  been  very 
many  Keplers." 

THE  SCIENTIFIC  USE  OF  THE  IMAGINATION. — 
This  was  the  title  of  a  famous  lecture  in  which 
Tyndall  discussed  with  eloquence  and  insight  the 
function  of  imagination  in  scientific  research, 
"  Bounded  and  conditioned  byco-operant  reason," 
he  said,  "imagination  becomes  the  mightiest  in- 
strument of  the  physical  discoverer."  "There  is 
in  the  human  intellect  a  power  of  expansion,  I 
might  almost  call  it  a  power  of  creation,  which  is 
brought  into  play  by  simple  brooding  over  facts, 
'the  spirit  brooding  over  chaos.'  " 

It  may  be  that  the  imaginative  brooding  sug- 
gests a  solution  in  some  way  that  we  do  not  at 
present  understand — life  is  essentially  creative; 
it  may  be  that  there  is  a  more  or  less  unconscious 
cerebral  experimenting;  it  is  certain  that  letting 
the  mind  play  among  facts  has  often  led  to 
magnificent  conclusions.  It  seems  that  the  solu- 
tion is  often  reached  first  and  the  proof  supplied 
afterwards.  Newton  spoke  of  reaching  his  dis- 
coveries "by  attending  my  mind  thereunto," 
but  it  would  be  extremely  interesting  to  know 
more  precisely  what  he  meant.  The  steps  by 


76       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

which  he  reached  his  gravitation-formula  illus- 
trate an  interlacing  of  induction  and  deduction, 
but  we  must  agree  with  Prof.  Gotch  that  the 
law  was  "the  conception  of  a  creative  mind  gifted 
with  imagination."  "In  the  language  of  Tyndall, 
this  'passage  from  a  falling  apple  to  a  falling 
moon'  was  a  stupendous  leap  of  the  imagination, 
for  his  enunciated  law  applies  in  conception  to 
the  universe,  thus  extending  into  boundless  space 
and  persisting  through  endless  time." 

At  the  beginning  of  this  chapter  we  hinted 
that  all  methods  are  transcended  by  men  of  gen- 
ius, whose  magnificent  operations  the  history  of 
Science  discloses.  We  cannot  give  a  psychological 
account  of  the  way  in  which  the  greatest  of  them 
made  their  discoveries.  Their  methods  were 
secondary.  "God  said,  Let  Newton  be!  and 
there  was  light."  Of  Kelvin,  his  biographer 
says: — 

"Like  Faraday,  and  the  other  great  masters  in 
science,  he  was  accustomed  to  let  his  thoughts 
become  so  filled  with  the  facts  on  which  his  atten- 
tion was  concentrated  that  the  relations  subsist- 
ing between  the  various  phenomena  dawned  upon 
him,  and  he  saw  them  as  if  by  some  process  of 
instinctive  vision  denied  to  others.  It  is  the  gift 
of  the  seer.  ..."  "His  imagination  was  vivid; 
in  his  intense  enthusiasm  he  seemed  to  be  driven, 
rather  than  to  drive  himself.  The  man  was  lost 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  77 

in  his  subject,  becoming  as  truly  inspired  as  is 
the  artist  in  the  act  of  creation." 

What  a  famous  mathematical  teacher,  Hop- 
kins,, "who  had  had,  perhaps,  more  experience 
of  mathematical  minds  than  any  man  of  his  time," 
said  of  Clerk  Maxwell,  may  also  serve  to  illustrate 
our  point  in  regard  to  genius.  His  striking  words 
were:  "It  is  not  possible  for  that  man  to  think 
incorrectly  on  physical  subjects." 

In  short,  it  must  be  admitted  that  genius 
transcends  methods.  As  Prof.  Silvanus  P. 
Thompson  says  in  his  Life  of  Lord  Kelvin: — 

"Observation,  experience,  analysis,  abstraction, 
imagination,  all  these  are  necessary — but  are  they 
all?  Something  seems  yet  wanting  to  account 
for  what  we  call  the  intuition  of  the  master-mind. 
It  is  surely  more  akin  to  the  innate  faculty  of 
the  great  artist  than  to  the  trained  powers  of  the 
analyst  or  the  logician." 

THE  FUNDAMENTAL  POSTULATE  OF  SCIENCE. — 
There  is  one  fundamental  postulate  underlying 
scientific  procedure, — a  postulate  which  is  verified 
with  every  fresh  step.  It  is  the  postulate  of  the 
Uniformity  of  Nature.  This,  which  may  be  ana- 
lysed into  a  number  of  postulates,  means  that  for 
our  human  purposes  there  is  stability  in  the 
properties  of  things,  that  the  same  situations  are 
continually  recurring,  that  there  is  a  routine  in 
the  order  of  Nature — a  routine  without  gaps  or 


78       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

interpolations,  in  which  every  event  is  deter- 
mined by  antecedent  events. 

Clerk  Maxwell  discussed  the  Uniformity  of 
Nature  in  his  famous  Discourse  on  Molecules 
(1873). 

"In  the  heavens  we  discover  by  their  light, 
and  by  then*  light  alone,  stars  so  distant  from 
each  other  that  no  material  thing  can  ever  have 
passed  from  one  to  another;  and  yet  this  light, 
which  is  to  us  the  sole  evidence  of  the  existence 
of  these  distant  worlds,  tells  us  also  that  each 
of  them  is  built  up  of  molecules  of  the  same 
kinds  as  those  which  we  find  on  earth.  A  mole- 
cule of  hydrogen,  for  example,  whether  in  Sirius 
or  in  Arcturus,  executes  its  vibrations  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  time. 

"Natural  causes,  as  we  know,  are  at  work 
which  tend  to  modify,  if  they  do  not  at  length 
destroy,  all  the  arrangements  and  dimensions 
of  the  earth  and  the  whole  solar  system.  But 
though  in  the  course  of  ages  catastrophes  have 
occurred  and  may  yet  occur  in  the  heavens, 
though  ancient  systems  may  be  dissolved  and 
new  systems  evolved  out  of  their  ruins,  the  mole- 
cules out  of  which  these  systems  are  built — the 
foundation-stones  of  the  material  universe — re- 
main unbroken  and  unworn.  They  continue  this 
day  as  they  were  created — perfect  in  number  and 
measure  and  weight.  .  .  ." 


SCIENTIFIC  METHOD  79 

In  the  more  exact  sciences — such  as  astronomy 
—the  verification  of  the  uniformity  is  complete, 
since  the  routine  of  sequences  can  be  summed 
up  in  rigid  mechanical  formulae.  We  cannot 
do  this  in  Biology,  yet  here  also  we  make  and 
verify  the  postulate  of  the  Uniformity  of  Nature. 
In  spite  of  a  strong  personal  element  in  many 
living  creatures  which  makes  then*  behaviour  in 
complicated  situations  unpredictable,  there  are 
uniformities  both  of  action  and  reaction.  With- 
out these,  indeed,  there  could  not  be  a  science 
of  Biology  at  all,  but  with  these  there  is  a  basis 
for  calculation,  prediction,  and  action,  which  is 
reliable,  though  not  to  the  same  degree  as  that 
afforded  by  the  more  exact  sciences. 

SUMMARY. — The  logic  of  scientific  discovery  is 
chiefly  an  intricate  interlacing  of  induction  and 
deduction.  While  genius  has  counted  for  much  in 
the  history  of  science,  many  great  discoveries  have 
been  the  harvest  of  a  keen-ege  and  an  inquisitive 
spirit.  The  first  step  in  scientific  procedure  is  to 
collect  data,  and  all  science  begins  with  measure- 
ment. The  second  step  is  the  arrangement  and 
classification  of  facts.  Auxiliary  to  this  and  to 
formulation  is  the  process  of  analysis  or  reduction 
to^simpler  terms.  In  order  to  fulfil  the  aim  of 
describing  facts  of  experience  as  exactly  as  possible, 
as  simply  as  possible,  as  completely  as  possible, 
it  is  often  necessary  to  try  one  hypothesis  after 


80       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

another.  An  important  step  in  procedure  is  the 
carrying  out  of  test  experiments.  The  final  result 
.£>  is  a  general  formula  or  a  law  of  Nature,  or,  more 
frequently,  the  inclusion  of  a  new  set  of  facts  within 
an  old  law.  At  every  step  imagination  counts  and 
its  highest  flights  are  called  genius.  The  funda- 
mental postulate  of  science  is  the  Uniformity  of 
Nature. 


CHAPTER  IV 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES 

"The  divisions  of  the  sciences  are  not  like 
different  lines  that  meet  in  one  angle,  but  rather 
like  the  branches  of  trees  that  join  in  one 
trunk." — BACON. 

The  Convenience  and  the  Difficulties  of  Classification — 
Bacon's  Classification — Comte's  Classification — Spencer's 
Classification— Bain's  Classification — Karl  Pearson's  Clas- 
sification— Bio-physics — Exact  Science — The  Classifica- 
tion Adopted — The  Interest  of  the  Classification  of  the 
Sciences — The  Correlation  of  the  Sciences — Summary. 

THE  CONVENIENCE  AND  THE  DIFFICULTIES 
OF  CLASSIFICATION. — Science  takes  the  whole 
known  universe  for  its  province,  and  every  com- 
municable verifiable  fact  of  experience  is  included 
among  its  data.  This  is  such  a  large  order  that 
it  is  obviously  convenient  to  have  some  classi- 
fication. Moreover,  although  there  is  nothing 
but  mis-education  to  hinder  an  intelligent  citizen 
from  having  a  scientific  interest  in  many  different 
orders  of  facts,  tastes  differ,  and  an  intellectual 
division  of  labour  naturally  arises.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  long  discipline  which  every  science 
81 


82       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

requires  renders  it  impossible  for  any  ordinary 
man  to  succeed  in  gaining  a  masterly  familiarity 
with  more  than  one  department  of  knowledge. 

The  classification  of  the  sciences  is  a  matter 
of  practical  and  intellectual  convenience,  but 
it  is  full  of  difficulties  and  raises  very  deep  ques- 
tions. If  it  be  made  too  detailed,  there  is  the 
risk  of  losing  sight  of  the  unity  of  knowledge; 
if  it  be  made  too  general,  there  is  the  risk  of 
denying  to  particular  sciences  that  autonomy 
which  the  distinctive  character  of  then*  subject- 
matter  warrants.  A  compromise  has  to  be  made 
between  two  desirabilities.  It  is  plain,  for  in- 
stance, that  Botany  and  Zoology  need  not  be 
separated  witl^  great  insistence;  they  may  be 
united  without  serious  fallacy  under  the  title 
Biology.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  good  rea- 
sons forysaying  that  it  is  a  fallacy  of  the  gravest 
sort  to*  include  Biology  as  a  special  section  of 
Physics  and  Chemistry. 

There  are  similar  difficulties  in  teaching  and 
learning.  Too  great  specialization  leads  to 
pedantry;  too  little  of  it  to  superficiality.  When 
our  aim  is  to  get  a  grip  of  scientific  method,  we 
are  more  likely  to  succeed  by  settling  down  to 
the  thorough  study  of  some  one  order  of  facts, 
than  by  indulging  in  an  intellectual  ramble 
through  the  universe.  On  the  other  hand,  when 
we  wish  fresh  points  of  view  and  new  impulse 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      83 

to  the  scientific  imagination,  we  require  width 
of  knowledge  and  contacts  between  different 
disciplines. 

There  seems  to  be  a  peculiar  fascination  in 
attempting  to  classify  the  sciences,  (and  many 
great  intellects  have  puzzled  over  the  problem. 
Thus  we  find  Hfcxley,  at  the  age  of  seventeen, 
writing:  "I  have  for  some  time  been  pondering 
over  a  classification  of  knowledge.  My  scheme 
is  to  divide  all  knowledge  in  the  first*  place  into 
two  grand  di visions  ^  (1)  Objective — that  for 
which  a  man  is  indebted  to  the  external  world; 
and  (2)  Subjective — that  which  he  has  acquired 
or  may  acquire  by  inward  contemplation."  He 

proposed  this  scheme: —        *.  « 

*  4.* 

SUBJECTIVE  OBJECTIVE 

Metaphysics 


Metaphysics  Maths.  Logic  Theology  Morality  History  Physiology  Physics 
proper 

There  have  been  dozens  of  classifications  of 
the  sciences,  which  have  been  dealt  with  in  a 
very  learned  way  by  the  late  Prof.  Robert  Flint, 
but  it  is  far  from  our  purpose  to  discuss  them 
here.  We  shall  not  do  more  than  refer  to  a  few 
which  illustrate  particular  points. 

BACON'S  CLASSIFICATION. — In  his  "Intellec- 
tual Globe,"  Francis  Bacon  (1561-1626)  recog- 
nized three  big  departments  of  human  learning — 


84       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

History,  Poesy,  and  Philosophy  or  the  Sciences. 
History,  based  on  Memory,  was  divided  into 
"Natural"  and  "Civil,"  a  reminiscence  of  which 
is  found  in  the  title  "Natural  and  Civil  History" 
which  was  borne  till  lately  by  more  than  one 
Scottish  Professorship.  Poesy  was  based  on  the 
faculty  of  Imagination.  Philosophy  or  the  Sci- 
ences, based  on  Reason,  included  Divinity,  which 
has  to  do  with  revelation,  and  Natural  Phil- 
osophy, which  has  to  do  with  God,  Nature, 
and  Man.  The  department  dealing  with  Nature 
included  Mathematics,  Physics  (Material  and 
Secondary  Causes),  and  Metaphysics  (Form  and 
Final  Causes).  It  is  obvious  that  this  classifica- 
tion does  not  help  us  much  to-day,  but  it  is  very 
interesting,  as  Prof.  Karl  Pearson  points  out, 
to  notice  the  suggestion  that  the  sciences  are  not 
like  different  lines  that  meet  in  one  angle,  but 
rather  like  branches  of  a  tree  that  meet  in  one 
stem,  "which  stem  grows  for  some  distance 
entire  and  continuous  before  it  divides  itself 
into  arms  and  boughs."  There  is  here  a  sug- 
gestion at  once  of  unity  and  of  evolution. 

Since  the  divisions  of  the  sciences  are  "like 
the  branches  of  trees  that  join  in  one  trunk," 
"it  is  first  necessary  that  we  constitute  a  univer- 
sal science  as  a  parent  to  the  rest,  and  as  making 
a  common  road  to  the  sciences  before  the  ways 
separate."  This  "universal  science"  was  a 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      85 

"primary  or  summary  philosophy,"  and  included 
an  inquiry  into  "  transcendentals,  or  the  adven- 
titious conditions  of  beings."  Bacon's  scheme 
formed  the  basis  of  the  gigantic  work  of  the 
French  Encyclopaedists,  but  they  might  well 
have  had  a  better.  It  was  founded  on  a  false 
idea  of  Memory,  Imagination,  and  Reason  as 
separate  faculties,  giving  rise  to  separate  depart- 
ments of  knowledge,  and  it  is  full  of  what  seems 
to  us  to-day  to  be  extraordinary  confusion,  such 
as  the  entire  separation  of  History  from  Science, 
and  the  separation  of  Man  from  Nature. 

COMTE'S  CLASSIFICATION. — Auguste  Comte 
(1798-1357)  recognized  six  fundamental  sciences: 
Mathematics,  Astronomy,  Physics,  Chemistry, 
Biology,  and  Sociology;  and  a  seventh  supreme 
or  final  science  of  Morals.  These,  he  said,  form 
a  linear  series,  indicative  of  the  order  of  evolution, 
for  a  relatively  simple,  abstract,  and  independent 
science  must,  he  maintained,  always  come  before 
the  relatively  more  special,  complex,  and  depen- 
dent. There  were  two  great  ideas  here,  though 
both  were  exaggerated.  The  first  is,  that  the 
sciences  should  contribute  to  the  guidance  of 
human  conduct,  for  in  morals  there  is  the  "synthet- 
ical terminus  of  the  whole  scientific  construction." 
In  other  words,  Science  should  afford  the  broad 
basis  for  the  Art  of  Life.  The  second  is,  that  the 
sciences  form  a  hierarchy,  those  that  deal  with 


86       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  more  complex  orders  of  facts  being  dependent 
on  those  that  deal  with  less  complex  orders  of 
facts.  It  does  not  seem  to  us  that  the  facts  of 
life  can  be  re-stated  in  the  formulae  of  chemistry 
and  physics,  or  that  the  biologist  holds  in  his 
hands  the  key  to  the  problems  of  human  society, 
but  it  is  certain  that  an  understanding  and  also 
a  control  of  the  organism  has  been  greatly  fur- 
thered by  chemical  and  physical  inquiries,  and 
that  the  data  of  biology  are  full  of  suggestion 
to  the  sociologist.  Comte's  insistence  on  the 
inter-dependence  and  correlation  of  the  sciences 
was  sound. 

The  idea  of  a  linear  series,  however,  is  falla- 
cious if  taken  literally.  It  does  not  express  an 
historical  fact  that  Biology  evolved  or  evolves 
from  Chemistry  and  Physics;  Astronomy  can- 
not be  separated  off  as  a  fundamental  science 
from  Physics  and  Chemistry,  nor  did  it  supply 
the  foundations  of  Physics;  Mathematics  may  be 
justly  called  the  most  fundamental  of  the  sciences, 
but  it  is  abstract  and  not  in  line  with  Physics, 
Chemistry,  and  Biology,  which  are  descriptive. 
The  ranking  of  Psychology  as  a  department  of 
Physiology  (Biology)  abandons  the  autonomy  of 
that  very  distinctive  science — quite  gratuitously 
and  fallaciously,  we  venture  to  think. 

SPENCER'S  CLASSIFICATION. — Herbert  Spencer 
(1864)  emphasized  the  distinction  between  the 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES     87 

Abstract  Sciences  of  Logic  and  Mathematics, 
which  deal  with  modes  or  methods  of  scientific 
description,  and  the  Concrete  Sciences  which  are 
the  scientific  descriptions.  Thus  Mathematics 
is  obviously  an  abstract  science,  applicable  to 
all  sorts  of  things,  but  never  inquiring  what  sort 
of  things  they  are. 

"The  broadest  natural  division  of  the  sciences 
is,  he  affirmed,  that  between  sciences  which 
deal  with  the  abstract  relations  under  which  phe- 
nomena are  presented  to  us,  and  those  which 
deal  with  the  phenomena  themselves — between 
sciences  which  deal  with  the  mere  blank  forms  of 
existence,  and  those  which  deal  with  real  ex- 
istences" (Flint,  1904,  p.  227).  Among  the  lat- 
ter, Spencer  distinguished  the  Abstract-Concrete 
Sciences,  such  as  Mechanics,  Physics,  and  Chem- 
istry which  treat  of  realities  in  their  elements,  or 
of  the  real  relations  implicated  in  certain  classes  of 
facts,  and  the  Concrete  Sciences,  Astronomy,  Geol- 
ogy, Biology,  Psychology,  and  Sociology,  which 
deal  with  realities  in  their  totalities,  or  with 
aggregates  of  phenomena. 

"From  the  beginning,"  he  says,  "the  Abstract 
Sciences,  the  Abstract-Concrete  Sciences,  and  the 
Concrete  Sciences  have  progressed  together,  the 
first  solving  problems  which  the  second  and  third 
presented,  and  growing  only  by  the  solution  of 
the  problems;  and  the  second  similarly  growing 


88       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

by  joining  the  first  in  solving  the  problems  of  the 
third.  All  along  there  has  been  a  continuous 
action  and  reaction  between  the  three  great  classes 
of  sciences." 

SPENCER'S    SCHEME 


Group  I.   Abstract  Sciences: — LOGIC  AND  MATHEMATICS 
Group  II.   Abstract-Concrete  Sciences: — Mechanics,  Phy- 
sics, Chemistry 

Group  III.   Concrete  Sciences : — Astronomy,  Geology,  Biol- 
ogy, Psychology,  Sociology 


"The  three  groups  of  Sciences  may  be  briefly 
defined  as  laws  of  the  forms,  laws  of  the  factors, 
laws  of  the  products." 

"The  first,  or  Abstract  group,  is  instrumental 
with  respect  to  both  the  others;  and  the  second, 
or  Abstract-Concrete  group,  is  instrumental  with 
respect  to  the  third  or  Concrete  group." 

"The  second  and  third  groups  supply  subject- 
matter  to  the  first,  and  the  third  supplies  subject- 
matter  to  the  second;  but  none  of  the  truths 
which  constitute  the  third  group  are  of  any  use 
as  solvents  of  the  problems  presented  by  the 
second  group;  and  none  of  the  truths  which  the 
second  group  formulates  can  act  as  solvents  of 
problems  contained  in  the  first  group." 

In  this  scheme,  as  Prof.  Flint  pointed  out, 
"Spencer  would  seem  to  have  himself  constructed 
a  series  of  sciences  of  the  very  kind  which,  in 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      89 

opposition  to  Comte,  he  declared  to  be  impossible. 
Comte  meant  no  more  by  calling  one  science 
logically  dependent  on  another  than  that  the  one 
placed  first  is  instrumental  as  regards  the  one 
placed  last,  while  the  latter  is  not  instrumental 
as  regards  the  former.  If  there  be  a  number  of 
sciences  dealing  with  fundamentally  distinct 
phenomena,  and  so  related  that  every  antecedent 
is  instrumental  as  regards  every  consequent,  and 
no  consequent  is  instrumental  as  regards  any 
antecedent,  a  series  of  sciences  is  constituted 
which  represents  the  logical  dependence  of  its 
members.  Spencer  started  with  denying  that 
there  was  any  such  series,  but  ended  by  impli- 
citly showing  that  there  was  one.  His  own  clas- 
sification, taken  in  connection  with  the  passage 
quoted,  was  a  decisive  refutation  of  what  was 
extreme  in  his  own  criticism  of  the  Comtist 
scheme.  So  far  from  having  succeeded  in  over- 
throwing that  scheme  he  only  at  the  utmost 
succeeded  in  slightly  modifying  it. 

"There  is  a  logical  dependence  of  the  sciences. 
And  why?  Just  because  there  is  a  natural  depen- 
dence of  phenomena.  The  quantitative  relations 
with  which  mathematics  deals  are  more  general 
than  the  mechanical  laws  which  physics  brings 
to  light;  there  can  be  no  chemical  combinations 
unconditioned  by  physical  properties;  vital  func- 
tions never  appear  apart  from  chemical  processes; 


90       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

and  there  must  be  life  before  there  can  be  con- 
sciousness. That  remarkable  hierarchy  of  phe- 
nomena is  a  fact  which  a  cloud  of  abstract  lan- 
guage or  a  covering  of  subtle  reasoning  may  to 
some  extent  and  for  a  short  while  conceal  from 
our  view,  but  which  no  language  or  reasoning  can 
efface  or  even  long  obscure.  And  there  being 
such  a  hierarchy  of  phenomena,  it  is  scarcely 
conceivable  that  there  should  be  no  correspond- 
ing hierarchy  of  sciences"  (Flint,  1904,  p.  231). 

We  have  quoted  this  strong  opinion  from  an 
authority  who  earned  a  high  reputation  in  deal- 
ing with  philosophical  questions,  but  it  appears 
to  us  to  require  some  safeguarding — in  one  direc- 
tion in  particular,  to  which  we  have  already 
referred,  and  must  refer  yet  again.  There  are, 
of  course,  physical  and  chemical  processes  in  the 
living  body;  we  may  speak  of  the  physics  and 
chemistry  of  organisms;  but  these  do  not  con- 
stitute biology,  nor  do  they  directly  contribute 
to  the  solution  of  biological  problems,  which 
have  primarily  to  do  with  the  ways  of  living 
creatures  as  such. 

One  of  the  features  of  Spencer's  classification 
which  has  been  much  criticized — and  justly,  as 
it  seems  to  us — is  the  awkward  naming  and 
grouping  of  the  "Abstract-Concrete"  Sciences, 
which  included  Mechanics,  Physics,  Chemistry 
and  Sciences  of  Light,  Heat,  Electricity,  and 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      91 

Magnetism.  It  is  difficult  to  see  why  Mechanics 
should  be  called  "abstract-concrete,"  or  why 
the  Sciences  of  Heat,  Light,  etc.,  are  not  included 
under  Physics,  and  so  on. 

BAIN'S  CLASSIFICATION. — Prof.  Alexander  Bain 
distinguished  Fundamental  (or  Abstract)  Sciences 
from  Dependent  (or  Concrete)  Sciences,  and  in  so 
doing,  apart  from  the  nomenclature,  he  made 
a  distinct  step  of  progress.  It  is  evident  that 
Geography  (one  of  the  dependent  sciences)  is  de- 
rivative, complex,  and  particulate,  as  contrasted 
with  Physics  (one  of  the  fundamental  sciences), 
which  is  independent,  simple,  and  general. 

The  fundamental  sciences,  according  to  Bain, 
were  Logic,  Mathematics,  Mechanics  or  Mechan- 
ical Physics,  Molecular  Physics,  Chemistry,  Biol- 
ogy, and  Psychology.  "In  every  one  of  these," 
he  said,  "there  is  a  distinct  department  of  phe- 
nomena; taken  together  they  comprehend  all 
known  phenomena,  and  the  order  indicated  is  the 
order  from  simple  to  complex,  and  from  indepen- 
dent to  dependent,  marking  the  order  of  study 
and  evolution."  Taken  collectively  "they  con- 
tain the  laws  of  every  known  process  in  the 
world,  whether  of  matter  or  of  mind;  and  set 
forth  these  laws  in  the  order  suitable  for  studying 
and  comprehending  them  to  the  greatest  possible 
advantage." 

The   dependent   sciences   include   Mineralogy. 


92       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

Meteorology,  Geography,  Botany,  Zoology,  Phi- 
lology, and  Sociology — the  point  in  the  definition 
being  that  "no  one  of  them  involves  any  opera- 
tion but  what  is  expounded  in  the  fundamental 
or  departmental  sciences." 

Thirdly,  Bain  suggested  a  third  group  of  Prac- 
tical Sciences,  but  here  his  usual  clearness  of 
thought  is  less  evident.  For  he  includes  within 
one  very  elastic  band  no  only  what  we  now  call 
"Applied  Sciences,"  but  also  some  of  the  arts  like 
Architecture,  and  several  sub-sciences  like  ^Es- 
thetics (surely  a  division  of  Psychology),  not  to 
speak  of  Ethics  and  Economics.  The  idea  of  his 
third  group  was  a  good  one  but  the  contents 
formed,  as  Flint  says,  "an  artificial  and  hetero- 
geneous conglomeration."  The  same  authority 
protests  against  the  exclusion  of  Metaphysics  and 
Theology,  a  procedure  common  to  Comte,  Spencer, 
and  Bain;  but  concedes  that  as  regards  the  classi- 
fication of  the  Sciences  properly  so-called  Bain's 
Scheme  "may  well  be  regarded  as  an  improve- 
ment on  Comte's  and  much  superior  to  Spencer's." 

KARL  PEARSON'S  CLASSIFICATION. — One  of  the 
clearest  of  recent  maps  of  knowledge  is  that 
furnished  by  Prof.  Karl  Pearson  in  his  Grammar 
of  Science.  He  distinguishes,  to  begin  with,  the 
Abstract  Sciences,  which  deal  with  modes  of 
discrimination,  from  the  Concrete  Sciences,  which 
deal  with  the  contents  of  perception.  The  Ab- 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      93 

stract  Sciences  include  Logic  and  other  "method- 
ological "  disciplines,  and  mathematics  with  its 
many  subdivisions  including  Statistics. 

The  Concrete  Sciences  include  (1)  the  Phys- 
ical Sciences,  which  deal  with  inorganic  phe- 
nomena, and  (2)  the  Biological  Sciences,  which 
deal  with  organic  phenomena.  The  Physical 
Sciences  are  divided  by  Pearson  into  the  Precise 
and  the  Synoptic,  the  latter  always  decreas- 
ing as  the  former  increase.  Astronomy  is  in 
greater  part  precise,  meteorology  is  in  greater  part 
synoptic.  "In  the  one  case  we  have  not  only  a 
rational  classification  of  facts,  but  we  have  been 
able  to  conceive  a  brief  formula,  the  law  of  gravi- 
tation, which  accurately  resumes  these  facts.  We 
have  succeeded  in  constructing,  by  aid  of  ideal 
particles,  a  conceptual  mechanism  which  describes 
astronomical  changes.  In  the  other  case  we  may 
or  may  not  have  reached  a  perfect  classification 
of  facts,  but  we  certainly  have  not  been  able  to 
formulate  our  perceptual  experience  in  a  mechan- 
ism or  conceptual  motion,  which  would  enable  us 
to  precisely  predict  the  future." 

(1)  THE  PHYSICAL  SCIENCES — those  dealing 
with  Inorganic  Phenomena — are  divided  by  Pear- 
son into  the  following: — 

Precise  Physical  Sciences  (reduced  to  ideal 
motions) . 


94       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

Physics  of  the  Ether,  e.  g.  dealing  with  Heat, 
Light,  Electricity,  Magnetism. 

Atomic  Physics,  e.  g.  Theoretical  Chemistry, 
Spectrum  Analysis. 

Molecular  Physics,  e.  g.  dealing  with  Elasticity, 
Sound,  Crystallography,  Hydro-mechan- 
ics, Theory  of  the  Tides,  Kinetic  Theory 
of  Gases. 

Molar  Physics,  e.  g.  Mechanics,  Planetary  The- 
ory, Lunar  Theory. 

Synoptic  Physical  Sciences  (not  reduced  to 
ideal  motions). 

Chemistry,  Mineralogy,  Geology,  Geography, 
Meteorology,  Inorganic  Evolution  of  the 
Earth  and  the  Planetary  System. 

The  Precise  and  the  Synoptic  Physical  Sciences, 
respectively,  "correspond  very  closely  to  the  phe- 
nomena of  which  we  have  constructed  a  con- 
ceptual model  by  aid  of  elementary  corpuscles 
having  ideal  motions,  and  to  the  phenomena 
which  have  not  been  reduced  to  such  a  conceptual 
description."  .  .  .  "Thus  Synoptic  Physical  Sci- 
ence is  rather  Precise  Physical  Science  in  the 
making  than  qualitatively  distinct  from  it.  It 
embraces  large  classifications  of  facts  which  we 
are  continually  striving  to  resume  in  simple 
formulae  or  laws,  and,  as  usual,  these  laws  are 
laws  of  Motion.  Thus  considerable  portions  of 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      95 

the  Synoptic  Physical  Sciences  are  already  precise, 
or  in  process  of  becoming  precise.  This  is  notably 
the  case  with  Chemistry,  Geology  and  Mineralogy. 

(2)  THE  BIOLOGICAL  SCIENCES — those  dealing 
with  Organic  Phenomena — are  divided  by  Pear- 
son as  follows: — 

First,  there  are  those  branches  of  biological 
science  which  deal  with  the  spatial  relations,  or 
the  localization  of  living  creatures.  Here  Pearson 
includes  the  study  of  the  Distribution  of  Living 
Forms  (Chorology)  and  the  study  of  habits  in 
relation  to  environment  (Ecology).  "These  form 
the  major  portion  of  what  in  the  old  sense  was 
termed  Natural  History."  [Prof.  Pearson's  classi- 
fication seems  to  us,  in  this  instance,  too  hard 
and  fast.  The  distinctive  feature  of  animal 
behaviour  is  certainly  not  its  spatial  relation.] 
Secondly,  there  are  those  branches  of  biological 
science  which  deal  with  sequence  in  time — with 
growth  or  change.  The  non-recurring  phases  are 
called  Evolution  (of  plants,  animals,  and  man); 
the  recurring  phases  are  called  Growth.  The 
study  of  non-recurring  growth  is  History;  the 
study  of  recurring  growth  is  Biology  in  the  nar- 
rower sense.  [This  seems  to  us  again  too  hard 
and  fast.  Thus  we  do  not  think  that  the  trans- 
formation through  variation  and  selection  which  is 
at  the  heart  of  racial  evolution,  and  the  differen- 
tiation and  integration  which  are  at  the  heart  of 


96       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

individual  development,  can  be  lumped  in  the 
conception  of  Growth.] 

Biology  is  further  subdivided,  by  Pearson,  into 
three  great  divisions,  according  as  it  deals  (a) 
with  form  and  structure  (Morphology,  Anatomy, 
Histology,  etc.) ;  (6)  with  growth  and  reproduction 
(the  topics  dealt  with  in  the  Evolution  of  Sex, 
the  Theory  of  Heredity,  and  Embryology);  and 
(c)  with  functions  and  actions,  which  may  be 
studied  from  the  physical  side  (Physiology)  or 
from  the  mental  side  (Psychology).  The  branch 
of  Psychology  which  deals  with  men  in  the  group 
is  Sociology,  which  falls  into  such  branches  as 
the  Science  of  Morals,  the  Science  of  Politics. 
Political  Economy,  and  Jurisprudence. 

PEARSON'S  SCHEME 

(In  outline  only.) 

ABSTRACT  SCIENCE: — Logic.  Mathematics,  Sta- 
tistics, Applied  Mathematics,  a  cross-link 
between  Abstract  and  Concrete  Science. 

CONCRETE  SCIENCE: — (1)  The  Physical  Sciences 
— including  Precise  Physical  Sciences  (Phys- 
ics of  the  Ether,  Atomic  Physics,  Molecu- 
lar Physics,  Molar  Physics)  and  Synoptic 
Physical  Sciences  (Chemistry,  Mineralogy, 
Geology,  Geography,  Meteorology,  etc.). 
(2)  The  Biological  Sciences — including 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      97 

Chorology  and  Ecology,  Biology  in  the 
narrower  sense  (the  study  of  structure, 
the  study  of  growth  and  reproduction, 
the  study  of  functions,  Psychology,  and 
Sociology,  and  finally  History  (including 
the  study  of  organic  as  well  as  human 
evolution). 

BIO-PHYSICS. — To  his  long  list  of  sciences  Prof. 
Pearson  would  add  another — a  cross-link  between 
Physical  and  Biological  Sciences — which  he  calls 
Bio-physics.  This  science  particularly  excites  our 
interest,  for  in  spite  of  its  very  shadowy  nature 
(even  Pearson  admitting  that  it  "does  not  appear 
to  have  advanced  very  far  at  present")  the  idea 
of  it  is  provocative  and  raises  the  kind  of  ques- 
tion which  makes  the  problem  of  classifying  the 
sciences  of  deep  importance. 

Prof.  Pearson  says  that  "life  invariably  occurs 
associated  with  sense-impressions  similar  to  those 
of  lifeless  forms,"  and  that  "organisms  appear 
to  have  chemical  and  physical  structure  differing 
only  in  complexity  from  inorganic  forms."  But 
our  impression  is  that  the  difference  in  complexity 
has  involved  a  difference  in  kind,  such  that  the 
interpretative  formulae  of  the  physical  sciences 
do  not  suffice  for  the  description  of  the  growth 
and  activities,  the  development  and  evolution  of 
organisms.  Living  creatures  are  historic  beings, 


98       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

and  in  studying  them  we  have  to  do  with  behav- 
iour quite  different  from  the  movements  of  lifeless 
forms.  Prof.  Pearson  continues: — 

"Although  we  cannot  definitely  assert  that  life 
is  a  mechanism,  until  we  know  more  exactly  what 
we  mean  by  the  term  mechanism  as  applied  to 
organic  corpuscles,  there  still  seems  little  doubt 
that  some  of  the  generalizations  of  physics — 
notably  the  great  principle  of  the  conservation  of 
energy — do  describe  at  least  part  of  our  perceptual 
experience  of  living  organisms." 

Admitting  this,  and  the  fact  that  there  are 
physical  and  chemical  processes  in  the  living  body 
which  receive  physical  and  chemical  formulation, 
we  do  not  regard  these  as  distinctive  of  the  living 
creature.  Many  of  them,  such  as  digestion,  may 
occur  outside  the  living  body  altogether,  in  a 
test-tube  for  instance.  In  short,  we  do  not  find 
that  a  knowledge  of  these  isolated  items  helps  us 
to  describe  hi  physical  terms  the  life  and  behav- 
iour, the  development  and  evolution  of  living 
creatures. 

According  to  Pearson,  however,  "a  branch  of 
science  is  needed  dealing  with  the  application  of 
the  laws  of  inorganic  phenomena,  or  Physics,  to 
the  development  of  organic  forms.  This  branch 
of  science  which  endeavours  to  show  that  the 
facts  of  Biology — of  Morphology,  Embryology,  and 
Physiology — constitute  particular  cases  of  general 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES      99 

physical  laws  has  been  termed  Etiology.  It  would 
be  perhaps  better  to  call  it  Bio-physics" 

But  the  term  Etiology  is  already  in  recognized 
use  for  a  biological  inquiry  into  the  factors  in 
organic  evolution,  such  as  variation  and  heredity, 
selection  and  isolation,  and  it  will  remain  a  sound 
branch  of  the  biological  tree  even  though  no 
success  rewards  the  attempt  to  describe  evolution 
in  terms  of  the  laws  of  physics. 

Prof.  Pearson's  idea  is  different.  Just  as 
Applied  Mathematics  is  "the  process  of  analysing 
inorganic  phenomena  by  aid  of  ideal  elementary 
motions,"  and  thus  links  Abstract  to  Concrete 
Science,  so  Bio-physics  attempts  to  link  the 
Physical  and  Biological  Sciences  together. 

Pearson  presents  this  view  in  a  scheme: — 

Applied  ("ABSTRACT  SCIENCE 

Mathematics    \ 

— a  cross-link  I  CONCRETE  SCIENCE 


PHYSICS  BIOLOGY 

Y 
Bio-physics — a  cross-link 

"Applied  Mathematics  and  Bio-physics  are  thus 
the  two  links  between  the  three  great  divisions  of 


100     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

Science,  and  only  when  their  work  has  been  fully 
accomplished  shall  we  be  able  to  realize  von 
Helmholtz's  prediction  and  conceive  all  scientific 
formulae,  all  natural  laws,  as  laws  of  motion. 
This  goal  we  must,  however,  admit  is  at  present 
indefinitely  distant." 

Not  only  so,  but  as  the  only  Bio-physics  we 
know  of  is  the  physical  and  chemical  study  of 
various  processes  that  occur  in  organisms,  and 
as  no  vital  function  whatever  has  yet  been  re- 
described  in  bio-physical  terms,  and  as  the 
results  of  bio-physical  analysis  do  not  seem  to 
help  us  to  understand  the  growth  and  activities, 
the  development  and  evolution  of  living  creatures 
which  require  interpretations  different  in  kind 
from  those  of  Physics — we  are  of  opinion  that 
Bio-physics  might  be  completed  without  Biology 
having  more  than  begun. 

It  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that  an  elaborate 
and  vividly  clear  classification  of  the  sciences  by 
Prof.  Patrick  Geddes  has  not  yet  been  published, 
and  therefore  cannot  be  included  here,  though 
the  most  convincing  one  we  know.  Some  indica- 
tion of  it  may  be  obtained  from  the  following 
scheme  of  anthropological  studies  published  in 
1903  by  Prof.  A.  C.  Haddon,  for  which  he  was 
largely  indebted  to  Prof.  Geddes: — 

EXACT  SCIENCE. — We  have  seen  that  Prof. 
Karl  Pearson  has  distinguished  Precise  Physical 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    101 


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102      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

Sciences  from  Synoptic  Physical  Sciences.  In  the 
former,  such  as  Molar  and  Molecular  Physics, 
the  processes  can  be  described  in  terms  of  ideal 
motions;  in  the  latter,  such  as  Chemistry  and 
Geology,  this  can  be  done  only  in  part.  But 
portions  of  the  Synoptic  Sciences  are  always 
passing  into  the  Precise  Sciences. 

The  term  "Exact  Science"  may  be  used  more 
generally  to  indicate  all  science  that  has  resolutely 
begun  to  "measure,"  including  in  "measurement" 
all  forms  of  precise  registration.  Not  a  little  of 
the  modern  work  in  pyschology  is  very  exact, 
but  the  description  of  its  subject-matter  "in 
terms  of  ideal  motions"  is  certainly  not  its 
end. 

In  further  illustration,  let  us  ask  why  we  hesi- 
tate in  applying  to  Biology  the  term  "Exact 
Science"  which  we  unhesitatingly  accord  to 
Astronomy.  The  reasons  are  two, — intrinsic  and 
extrinsic.  The  intrinsic  reason  is  that  Biology 
deals  with  living  creatures,  which  are  personal 
agents,  variable  and  spontaneous,  always  to  some 
extent  unpredictable.  We  deal  in  Biology  with 
an  order  of  phenomena  more  complex  than  in 
Astronomy,  and  our  knowledge  is  proportionately 
lacking  in  exactness. 

The  extrinsic  reason  is  that  Biology  is  a  young 
science  and  Astronomy  a  very  old  one.  The 
Astronomer  is  a  master-workman,  the  Biologist 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    103 

still  only  an  apprentice.  In  a  lecture  on  Inher- 
itance, the  late  Prof.  W.  F.  R.  Weldon  put  this 
matter  very  clearly:  "The  ideal  description  of 
every  experience,  the  description  which  alone 
makes  further  progress  possible,  is  a  description 
of  all  the  results  obtained,  and  not  a  statement 
which  largely  ignores  the  inconsistencies  observed. 
The  reason  why  astronomers,  and  physicists, 
and  chemists  can  so  often  afford  to  neglect  the 
inconsistencies  of  then-  experience  without  making 
themselves  ridiculous  is  that  by  great  labour 
they  have  already  succeeded  in  confining  the 
limits  within  which  these  inconsistencies  occur, 
so  that  the  proportion  of  the  whole  experience 
affected  by  them  is  very  small.  But  biologists 
have  not  yet  advanced  so  far  as  this:  The  margin 
of  uncertainty  in  their  experience  is  still  so  large 
that  they  are  obliged  to  take  account  of  it  in 
every  statement  they  make." 

Yet  the  work  which  Prof.  Weldon  himself 
did  in  connection  with  variation,  heredity,  and 
selection  was  symptomatic  of  the  movement 
towards  exactness  that  has  recently  character- 
ized even  the  most  difficult  departments  of 
Biology,  those  dealing  with  Evolution.  There 
has  been  for  a  long  time  much  exact  science  in 
comparative  anatomy  and  physiology,  but  in 
recent  years  the  labours  of  the  biometricians  on 
the  one  hand,  and  of  the  experimental  zoologists 


104      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

on  the  other,  have  done  much  to  bring  the  study 
of  evolution-problems  nearer  the  ideal  of  exact 
science. 

CLASSIFICATION  ADOPTED. — Combining  what 
appear  to  us  to  be  the  chief  merits  of  the  fore- 
going classifications,  we  propose  the  following 
map: — 

A.  ABSTRACT,  FORMAL,  or  METHODOLOGICAL 
SCIENCES. 

These  deal  with  methods  of  inference,  supply 
intellectual  instruments  for  investigation,  and 
test  the  consistency  and  completeness  of  scien- 
tific descriptions. 

MATHEMATICS,  including  STATISTICS. 
LOGIC,  in  the  widest  sense. 
METAPHYSICS. 


B.  CONCRETE,    DESCRIPTIVE,    or    EXPERIEN- 
TIAL SCIENCES. 

These  deal  with  the  facts  of  experience  and 
with  inferences  from  these  facts.  They  include 
five  general  or  fundamental  sciences  and  a  large 
number  of  particulate  or  derivative  sciences. 

B.  1.  The  five  great  fundamental  sciences 
are: — 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    105 


ANIMATE  ORDER 


PURELY    PHYSICAL 
ORDER 


SOCIOLOGY  is  the  science  of  the  structure  and 
life,  growth  and  evolution  of  societary 
forms  or  social  groups. 

PSYCHOLOGY  is  the  science  of  the  subjective 
aspect  of  behaviour,  of  Man  and  of  animals. 
In  the  human  sphere  Psychology  has 
the  fascinating  distinction,  as  compared 
with  other  sciences,  that  "the  instruments 
of  investigation  are  also  the  objects  of 
research." 

BIOLOGY  is  the  science  of  the  structure  and 
activity,  development  and  evolution  of 
organisms,  including  Man. 

PHYSICS  is  mainly  the  science  of  the  transfor- 
mations of  Energy  (Energetics). 

CHEMISTRY  is  mainly  the  science  of  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  matter,  their  transformations, 
affinities,  and  interactions.  It  is  par  ex- 
cellence the  science  of  molecules  and  atoms. 


106       INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 


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CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    107 

It  must  be  admitted  that  the  fields  of  chemistry 
and  physics  are  not  separated  by  any  defensible 
boundary-lines,  and  the  two  sciences  obviously 
come  together  in  such  studies  as  spectrum  anal- 
ysis and  in  such  theories  as  the  electric  struc- 
ture of  the  atom.  But  the  distinction  is  one 
of  considerable  convenience  and  will  probably 
last. 

Some  would  have  even  more  doubt  as  to  the 
propriety  of  separating  off  Sociology,  from  Psy- 
chology for  instance. 

The  fact  is  that  Sociology  is  still  a  very  young 
science;  its  scope  and  definition  are  in  its  own 
hands.  It  is  therefore  neither  necessary  nor 
advisable  at  present  to  try  to  define  it  with  pre- 
cision; we  must  see  first  how  far  it  can  go.  It 
is  the  scientific  study  of  social  groups  or  "societary 
forms,"  considered  as  concrete  organic  unities, — 
each  of  them  more  than  the  sum  of  its  parts.  It 
necessarily  comes  into  contact  with  anthropology 
and  history,  with  economics  (which  has  primarily 
to  do  with  industrial  organization),  and  with 
politics  (which  has  primarily  to  do  with  the 
affairs  of  the  state  as  such),  but  it  has  a  place 
and  function  of  its  own. 

B.  2.  The  most  important  derivative  or  partic- 
ulate  sciences  may  be  arranged  in  groups,  depen- 
dent on  the  five  fundamental  sciences.  Two 
points  have  to  be  kept  clearly  in  mind,  and  may 


108      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

be  best  illustrated  by  examples,  (a)  While  the 
general  or  fundamental  science  of  Biology  is  not 
concerned  with  the  kinds  of  Plants  or  Animals,  the 
particulate  or  derivative  sciences  of  Botany  and 
Zoology  emphatically  are.  (6)  Many  of  the  de- 
rivative sciences  are  complex  or  synthetic,  Anthro- 
pology being  a  good  example.  They  combine 
the  methods  and  concepts  of  several  of  the  funda- 
mental sciences  for  their  own  particular  purposes. 
Thus,  to  take  another  case,  Geology  is  a  synthetic 
science,  the  focussing  of  several  sciences  in  the 
study  of  the  Earth.  It  inquires  into  the  struc- 
ture, activities,  and  history  of  the  Earth,  which 
it  conveniently  divides  into  four  shells — each,  if 
we  like,  with  its  special  science — the  atmosphere, 
the  hydrosphere  or  oceans,  the  lithosphere  or 
crust,  and  the  centrosphere  or  nucleus.  For  the 
most  part,  perhaps,  geologists  are  concerned  with 
the  earth's  crust,  but  there  are  few  of  them  who 
would  consent  to  be  restricted  to  this  territory. 
As  Prof.  R.  S.  Woodward  says:  "Geology  illus- 
trates better  than  any  other  science,  probably, 
the  wide  ramifications  and  the  close  inter-relations 
of  physical  phenomena.  There  is  scarcely  a 
process,  a  product,  or  a  principle  in  the  whole 
range  of  physical  science,  from  physics  and 
chemistry  up  to  astronomy  and  astrophysics, 
which  is  not  fully  illustrated  in  its  uniqueness 
and  in  its  diversity  by  actual  operations  still  in 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    109 

progress  on  the  earth,  or  by  actual  records  pre« 
served  in  her  crust.  The  earth  is  thus  at  once 
the  grandest  of  laboratories  and  the  grandest  of 
museums  available  to  man." 

Another  idea  which  seems  useful  is  that  of 
sub-sciences,  as  distinguished  from  special  sci- 
ences. Let  us  explain  with  reference  to  Biology. 
(i.)  A  general  or  fundamental  science  is  distin- 
guished partly  by  its  subject-matter,  e.  g.  living 
organisms;  and  partly  by  its  point  of  view,  which, 
in  the  case  of  Biology,  for  instance,  is  not  the 
physico-chemical  point  of  view.  A  general 
science  has  a  well-defined  subject-matter  to  which 
it  applies  characteristic  methods  and  concepts. 
Furthermore,  it  is  concerned  with  general  ques- 
tions and  not  with  particular  descriptions.  Biol- 
ogy is  concerned  with  what  is  common  to  all 
living  creatures,  and  with  averages,  not  individuals. 

(ii.)  But  under  the  rubric  of  Biology  we  have 
the  special,  particulate,  or  derivative  sciences  of 
Botany  and  Zoology,  which  divide  the  world  of 
organisms  between  them  and  are  both  concerned 
with  particular  description  as  well  as  with  general 
formulation.  It  might  also  be  convenient  to 
have  a  special  science  of  Protistology  for  the 
minute  and  simple  organisms  which  seem  to 
hesitate  between  plant  and  animal  life.  And 
other  special  sciences  may  be  recognized  if  de- 
sired. It  is  all  a  matter  of  convenience. 


110     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

(iii.)  But  within  the  general  science  of  Biology 
several  quite  different  questions  are  asked,  and 
the  answers  to  these  are  the  sub-sciences.  The 
questions  that  the  biologist  must  ask  and  answer 
before  he  can  go  far  in  generalization  appear 
at  first  sight  to  be  very  numerous  and  varied, 
but,  from  a  certain  distance,  we  see  that  there 
are  only  four:  What  is  this  living  creature  as 
regards  form  and  structure?  How  does  it  work? 
Whence  has  it  arisen?  How  has  it  come  to  be 
as  it  is? 

(1)  What  is  this  in  form   and  structure,   in 
symmetry  and  internal  architecture?     It  seems 
a  "simple  question,"  but  how  hard  to  answer,  as 
we  press  it  farther  and  farther  home,  as  we  pass 
from    external    features    to    internal    structure, 
from  organs  to  tissues,  from  tissues  to  cells,  as 
we  put  one  lens  after  another  in  front  of  our  own, 
as  we  call  to  our  aid  all  sorts  of  devices — scalpel 
and  forceps,  razor  and  microtome,  fixative  and 
stain!   "What  is  this,"  we  say,  "in  itself  and  in 
all  its  parts?  what  is  this  by  itself  and  when  com- 
pared with  its  fellows  and  kindred?  "   and  our 
answer  broadens  and  deepens  till  it  furnishes  the 
raw  materials  of  the  sub-science  of  morphology. 

(2)  Close   upon   the   first   question — What   is 
this?    there  rises  a  second — How  does  this  work? 
"It  is  equally  natural  and  necessary,  and  through- 
out the  progressive  periods  in  the  history  of  Biol- 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    111 

ogy  the  two  questions  have  never  been  far  apart. 
They  have  evolved  together,  especially  during 
the  last  hundred  years,  prompting  one  another 
to  a  more  and  more  penetrating  inquisitiveness. 
The  key-word  of  the  one  is  structure,  or  organ- 
ization; the  key- word  of  the  other  is  function,  or 
activity.  The  creature  which  our  first  ques- 
tion killed  and  picked  to  pieces  has  to  be  put 
together  again  and  made  to  work!  What  does 
it  do?  how  does  it  do  it?  how  does  it  go?  how 
does  it  keep  agoing?  how  does  it  set  other  creatures 
like  itself  agoing?  how  long  can  it  go?  how  does 
it  cease  from  going?  In  other  words,  how  does 
the  organism  feel  and  move?  how  does  it  grow 
and  multiply?  how  does  it  waste,  recover  itself, 
and  finally,  in  most  cases,  die?  Above  all,  what 
is  the  secret  of  its  activity  and  of  its  power  of 
effective  response  to  the  changeful  order  of 
nature?  "  (Darwinism  and  Human  Life,  1909, 
p.  8.)  The  attempts  to  answer  these  and 
similar  questions  have  made  the  science  of 

Physiology.  — 

Physiology  is  the  science  of  the  activity  of 
organisms.  It  is  the  study  of  the  working  of 
living  things.  It  considers  plants  and  animals 
and  man  in  their  dynamic  relations,  just  as 
morphology  considers  them  statically.  It  takes 
to  do  with  habit  and  function,  just  as  morphology 
takes  to  do  with  form  and  structure.  And  the 


112     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

two  sister  sciences  go  hand  in  hand,  for  just  as 
taking  a  watch  to  pieces  is  not  very  intelligent 
unless  we  inquire  into  the  working  of  the  various 
parts,  and  just  as  we  cannot  understand  how  the 
watch  "goes"  unless  we  know  its  structure  inti- 
mately, so  anatomy  and  physiology  must  always 
be  closely  linked  together. 

There  has  been  a  close  parallelism  in  the  history 
of  the  two  sciences.  The  morphologist  began 
with  the  form  of  the  intact  organism,  and  passed 
in  succession  to  the  various  organs,  then*  com- 
ponent tissue,  their  component  cells,  and,  finally, 
to  the  structure  of  living  matter  itself.  So 
the  physiologist  investigates  life  or  activity  at 
different  levels,  passing  from  his  study  of  the 
living  creature  as  a  unity  with  certain  habits, 
to  consider  it  as  an  engine  of  organs,  as  an 
intricate  web  of  tissues,  as  a  veritable  com- 
munity of  cells,  and,  finally,  as  a  whirlpool  of 
living  matter. 

(3)  The  third  question— Whence  is  this?  is 
really  double,  for  we  may  inquire  into  the  devel- 
opment of  the  individual  (Embryology)  or  into 
the  history  of  the  race  as  it  is  hidden  in  the 
strange  graveyards  of  the  buried  past,  the  fossil- 
bearing  rocks  (Palaeontology).  Since  these  are 
both  historical  or  genetic  inquiries,  the  one  deal- 
ing with  individual  development  (ontogeny),  the 
other  with  racial  evolution  (phylogeny),  it  would 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    113 

be  useful  to  have  one  word  like  "geneology" 
(altering  a  letter  in  genealogy)  to  cover  them 
both, 

(4)  There  remains  a  fourth  question,  since 
Darwin's  day  asked  with  a  new  hopefulness — 
How  have  these  living  creatures  come  to  be  as 
they  are?  What  are  the  originative  and  what 
the  directive  factors  in  evolution?  How  has  the 
raw  material  of  progress,  which  we  call  variations, 
been  made  available  throughout  the  countless 
ages?  and  how  has  this  raw  material  been  fash- 
ioned to  shape  and  use  in  improved  adaptations 
and  endless  new  departures?  The  attempts  to 
answer  these  and  similar  questions  are  laying 
the  foundation-stones  of  the  young  sub-science 
of  ^Etiology. 

The  primary  sub-sciences  of  Biology  are  thus 
four: — 

Morphology,  the  study  of  static  relations,  of 

form  and  structure. 
Physiology,  the  study  of  dynamic  relations,  of 

habit  and  function. 
Geneology,   the   study  of  development  or  of 

individual    becoming    (Embryology),    or    of 

the   rock-recorded    facts    of    racial    history 

(Palaeontology). 
^Etiology,  the  study  of  the  factors  in  racial 

evolution. 


114      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

It  is  evident  that  these  sub-sciences  of  Biology 
appear  also  as  particular  questions  or  methods 
of  the  special  sciences  of  Botany  and  Zoology. 

BIOLOGY 


GENEOLOGY 

MORPHOLOGY 

PHYSIOLOGY 

ETIOLOGY 

For  purposes  of  convenience  it  seems  well  to 
retain  the  term  "Applied  Science"  for  any  de- 
partment of  a  "Special  Science"  which  has 
directly  to  do  with  the  arts  and  crafts.  Thus,  to 
take  a  familiar  illustration,  a  great  part  of  "Med- 
ical Science"  is  "Applied  Science"  definitely  ori- 
entated in  relation  to  the  art  of  healing.  This 
"Medical  Science"  is,  or  may  be,  just  as  scien- 
tific as  anything  else;  it  is  so  in  direct  pro- 
portion to  the  soundness  of  its  foundations  in 
Anatomy,  Physiology,  Biology,  Chemistry,  and 
the  like,  and  in  direct  proportion  to  its  own  scien- 
tific industry,  but  not  even  its  most  enthusi- 
astic devotees  will  maintain  that  it  aims  directly 
at  adding  to  the  sciences  on  which  it  is  based. 
It  does  so  illustriously,  it  is  true,  but  incidentally, 
and  it  is  a  fine  example  of  what  we  may  legiti- 
mately call  an  "Applied  Science." 

Another  very  clear  example  is  "Agricultural 
Science,"  which  is  orientated  in  relation  to  farm- 
ing, gardening,  shepherding,  and  the  like.  It  is, 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    115 

or  may  be,  just  as  scientific  as  any  other  depart- 
ment; it  is  so  in  direct  proportion  to  the  sound- 
ness of  its  scientific  foundations  in  Chemistry, 
Botany,  Zoology,  Geology,  Biology,  and  the 
like,  and  in  direct  proportion  to  its  own  scientific 
industry,  but  not  even  its  most  enthusiastic 
devotees  will  maintain  that  it  aims  directly  at 
adding  to  the  sciences  on  which  it  is  based.  It 
has  begun  to  repay  its  debts,  but  not  deliberately. 
It  is  a  fine  example  of  an  "Applied  Science." 

Many  other  examples  might  be  given,  such  as 
the  Science  of  Education  and  the  Science  of 
Engineering,  both  of  which  appear  to  us  to  be 
"Applied  Sciences,"  intermediate  between  a 
general  or  a  particulate  science  (a  "pure  science") 
on  the  one  hand  and  one  of  the  Arts  or  Crafts 
on  the  other.  Then*  obviously  distinctive  feature 
is  that  they  contain  a  large  body  of  knowledge 
definitely  orientated  towards  a  practical  purpose. 

THE  INTEREST  OF  THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF 
THE  SCIENCES. — It  may  seem  to  some  that,  for  a 
small  book  of  this  sort,  too  much  space  has 
been  given  to  a  very  "academic"  question, — that 
of  the  classification  of  the  sciences.  But  may 
we  briefly  indicate  its  real  interest,  (a)  Perhaps 
it  does  not  matter  very  much  which  classification 
is  adopted,  the  important  thing  is  to  have  in  the 
mind  some  classification  which  one  has  made  one's 
own.  It  is  not  merely  that  we  should  put  our 


116      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

intellectual  house  in  order — a  process  that  tends 
to  clear  thinking,  but  to  have  a  vividly  real 
scheme  or  map  of  knowledge  is  to  have  a  sort  of 
Philosopher's  Stone.  It  adds  to  the  value  of 
our  knowledge  by  always  suggesting  inter-rela- 
tions and  by  serving  as  a  test  of  completeness 
and  consistency.  We  all  need  to  be  constantly 
reminded  of  Plato's  demand  that  the  true  lover 
of  science  shall  be  interested  in  the  whole  of  his 
subject. 

(6)  The  second  great  interest  of  the  classifica- 
tion of  the  sciences  is  that  it  raises  the  largest 
and  deepest  questions.  Willy-nilly  it  expresses 
a  Philosophy.  Its  boundary-lines  express  our 
conclusions  as  to  the  autonomy  or  the  depen- 
dence of  Biology  and  of  Psychology,  our  decisions 
on  the  difficult  questions  of  Vitalism  and  Materi- 
alism. It  is  not  a  matter  of  indifference  whether 
Sociology  should  be  reckoned  as  a  general  science 
(Comte)  or  as  a  branch  of  Biology  (Pearson).  It  is 
not  by  a  misprint  that  we  have  placed  Metaphys- 
ics beside  Mathematics  as  an  Abstract  Science. 

As  we  think  over  the  conflicting  classifications 
of  the  sciences,  we  see  that  a  frequent  cause  of 
confusion  has  been  the  attempt  to  map  out 
territories  as  preserves  of  particular  sciences. 
This  implies  a  wrong  idea  of  the  constitution  of  a 
science,  which  is  defined  not  by  its  subject-matter, 
but  by  the  categories  under  which  it  thinks  of 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    117 

that  subject-matter.  Two  sciences  may  work 
and  often  do  work  at  the  same  material, — but  with 
different  ends  in  view,  with  different  fundamental 
concepts,  and  with  methods  different  in  detail. 

Let  us  illustrate.  An  anthropologist  may  work 
for  years  at  a  particular  societary  form,  and 
yet  his  results  may  be  contributions  to  biology 
rather  than  to  sociology.  A  psychologist  may 
devote  himself  to  the  study  of  cats  and  dogs,  and 
yet  his  results  may  not  be  contributions  to  biology 
in  the  stricter  sense.  A  physicist  may  give  per- 
sistent and  profitable  attention  to  the  electrical 
changes  associated  with  contracting  muscle,  and 
yet  though  he  is  in  a  sense  dealing  with  organisms 
all  the  time,  his  results  may  be  contributions  to 
physics  rather  than  to  biology.  Similarly,  the 
chemist,  for  purposes  of  his  own,  may  give  his 
life  to  the  study  of  the  odoriferous  substances  in 
flowers,  and  yet  never  ask  one  biological  question. 

THE  CORRELATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES. — From 
the  classification  of  the  sciences  and  sub-sciences 
we  turn  with  a  feeling  of  relief  to  the  idea  of 
their  Unity.  Blocked  apart  for  practical  con- 
venience, treated  of  in  separate  books,  expounded 
by  different  teachers,  investigated  in  different 
laboratories,  the  sciences  are,  after  all,  parts  of 
one  discipline,  illustrations  of  one  method,  at- 
tempts to  make  clear — if  never  to  solve — the  one 
great  problem  of  the  Order  of  Nature.  They 


118      INTRODUCTION    TO  SCIENCE 

form,  or  should  form,  one  body  of  truth,  and  they 
gain  in  value  the  more  they  are  correlated.  This 
is  the  ideal  alike  of  the  Philosopher's  Stone,  of 
the  Encyclopaedia,  of  the  University,  and  of  the 
most  modern  scientific  synthesis.  Let  us  briefly 
consider  it  from  various  points  of  view. 

When  we  think  of  a  living  creature  with  vivid- 
ness, several  major  impressions  stand  out  clearly 
in  the  mind.  In  the  first  place,  the  organism  is  a 
unity.  It  has  many  members,  but  one  body; 
many  activities,  but  one  life.  It  develops  and 
grows  and  varies  and  acts  as  a  unity.  Therefore, 
we  feel  sure  that  while  it  has  to  be  made  the  sub- 
ject of  many  different  sciences, — anatomy,  physi- 
ology, embryology,  not  to  speak  of  chemistry 
and  physics,  and  not  forgetting  psychology,  the 
scientific  truth  about  the  living  creature  cannot 
be  reached  unless  the  results  of  the  various 
scientific  inquiries  are  pooled,  and  unless  the 
fundamental  fact  of  the  unity  of  the  organism 
is  recognized. 

In  the  second  place,  the  living  creature  cannot 
be  isolated  or  studied  in  vacua.  It  has  an  inani- 
mate environment  from  which  it  is  scientifically 
inseparable,  and  it  sends  its  tendrils  into  the 
lives  of  many  other  creatures.  If  we  are  to  come 
nearer  knowing  the  truth  about  the  living  creature, 
we  must  study  it  in  its  inter-relations.  But  that 
involves  the  convergence  of  many  sciences,  which 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    119 

approach  their  ideal  completeness  in  proportion 
as  they  are  correlated. 

In  the  third  place,  we  have  to  bear  in  mind 
that  the  living  creature  is  passing  by  as  one  of  a 
great  historical  pageant.  It  is  an  heir  of  the  ages, 
only  to  be  understood  as  the  resultant  of  num- 
berless factors — mechanical,  chemical,  physical, 
and  animate — which  have  gone  to  its  shaping. 
It  has  gathered  into  itself  the  sunshine  and  haar, 
the  wind  and  the  rain  of  millennia.  It  requires 
a  unity  of  the  sciences  if  it  is  to  be  understood. 
Nor  is  it  merely  a  passer-by  in  a  great  procession, 
which  we  can  study  all  too  briefly  before  the 
torch  it  carries  goes  out  and  it  fades  away,  it  is 
an  individualized  phase  in  the  ceaseless  circula- 
tion of  matter  and  energy.  To  change  the  meta- 
phor again,  it  is  a  whirlpool  in  the  river  of  time. 
All  of  which  makes  us  feel  that  the  sciences  are 
most  scientific  when  they  are  most  united.  The 
higher  the  subject  in  the  scale  of  being  the  more 
obvious  this  is,  for  Man  most  of  all,  but  even  in 
regard  to  the  non-living  the  inter-relatedness  of 
things  makes  a  unification  of  sciences  necessary. 
Who,  for  instance,  can  understand  the  earth  as 
it  is  apart  from  its  living  tenants?  The  very 
dust  throbs  with  life. 

The  idea  which  we  wish  to  illustrate  is  very 
plain  when  we  think  of  some  big  problem  such 
as  the  physiology  of  marine  organisms — and  the 


120     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

improvement  of  fisheries  as  an  application  of 
this.  The  only  hope  of  getting  towards  an  under- 
standing of  such  a  subject  is  through  the  com- 
bined efforts  of  chemist  and  physicist,  botanist 
and  zoologist,  meteorologist  and  geographer. 

Worthy  of  note  in  this  connection  is  the 
unthought-out  objection  which  some  ultra-con- 
servative educationists  bring  against  geography, 
that  it  is  not  a  well-defined  single  science,  but  a 
combination  of  many  sciences  for  a  particular 
purpose.  The  description  is  correct  that  Geog- 
raphy is  a  circle  cutting  many  other  circles,  but 
this  is  precisely  its  peculiar  scientific  merit  and 
virtue,  that  it  expresses  a  unification  or  synthesis 
of  complementary  disciplines. 

Our  intellectual  outlook  on  the  world  depends 
on  our  scientific  culture,  and  its  value  must  vary 
with  the  all-roundness  and  with  the  correlation 
of  different  scientific  disciplines.  Just  as  it  takes 
many  different  rays  of  light  to  make  sunshine,  so 
it  takes  many  different  sciences  to  give  that 
synthetic  view  which  we  call  sanity.  Thus  we 
stand  in  unwearying  admiration  before  Goethe 
because  his  outlook  was  at  once  physical  and 
biological,  geographic  and  psychic. 

It  is  idle  to  pretend  that  the  outlook  on  the 
order  of  nature  which  becomes  habitual  to  the 
student  of  mechanics  has  nothing  to  gain  from, 
let  us  say,  the  very  different  impressions  that 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    121 

reward  those  who  devote  themselves  to  compara- 
tive psychology.  It  savours  of  what  we  may  call 
scientific  Chauvinism  to  maintain  that  physico- 
chemical  interpretations,  when  they  go  to  the 
formation  of  our  outlook  on  Nature,  require 
no  corrective  from  the  biological,  mental,  and 
social  sciences.  It  requires  a  long-necked  ob- 
server to  see  the  whole  firmament  out  of  one 
window. 

We  know  how  chemistry  assists  in  physiolog- 
ical inquiry;  showing  how  this  and  that  chemical 
process  occurs  in  the  body,  here  an  oxidation 
and  there  a  reduction,  now  a  hydrolysis  and 
again  a  fermentation,  thereby  bringing  into 
stronger  relief  the  co-ordination  and  control  of  all 
these,  which  is  distinctively  vital.  But  we  have 
also  to  notice  how  physiology  assists  chemistry, — 
a  noteworthy  instance  being  the  physiological 
discovery  of  oxygen  by  Mayow  (1674)  a  century 
before  the  element  was  chemically  isolated. 

The  point  that  we  wish  to  get  perfectly  clear 
is  this,  that  the  same  phenomenon  may  be  con- 
sidered without  irrelevancy  under  several  sciences. 
Thus  when  we  enjoy  looking  at  a  rose,  there  are 
chemical,  physical,  physiological,  and  psycholog- 
ical problems  involved.  At  least  four  sciences 
have  something  to  say,  and  what  must  be  realized 
is  that  while  these  sciences  are  separated  off  for 
purposes  of  human  convenience,  because  they 


122     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

pursue  different  methods,  use  different  tools, 
sum  up  in  different  kinds  of  formulae,  they  are 
simply  different  modes  of  one  rational  inquiry. 

SUMMARY. — The  classification  of  the  sciences  is 
in  detail' a  matter  of  convenience,  but  it  is  of  great 
practical  importance  to  have  in  the  mind  some 
clear  map  of  knowledge.  The  broad  lines  of  the 
classification  depend  upon  our  scientific  and  phil- 
osophical convictions,  e.  g.  a*  to  the  independence  of 
Biology  and  the  separateness  of  Psychology  from 
Physiology.  It  seems  useful  to  separate,  first  of  all, 
the  abstract  sciences  which  are  "methodological," 
from  the  concrete  sciences  which  deal  with  the  facts 
of  experience.  The  fundamental  abstract  science  is 
Mathematics,  and  we  would  regard  Metaphysics  as 
supreme  in  the  same  division.  Th#  five__greatj:on-  t 
crete  sciences,  which  may  also  be  catted  descriptive  ; 
or  experiential,  are:  Chemistry,  Physics,  Biology,  ' 
Psychology,  and  Sociology.  Within  these  there  are 
sub-sciences, — thus  Biology  is  divisible  into  Mor- 
phology, Physiology,  Genealogy  (i.  e.  Embryology 
and  Palaeontology)  and  Etiology.  Dependent  on 
the  five  general  sciences  are  the  numerous  derivative 
or  particulate  sciences,  such  as  Botany  and  Zoology. 
Many  of  these  are  complex  or  synthetic,  focussing 
several  sciences  on  one  subject:  Geology  and 
Geography  are  good  examples.  The  term  "applied 
science"  is  conveniently  used  for  those  departments 
of  general  or  special  sciences  which  have  directly  to 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  SCIENCES    123 

do  with  the  development  and  evolution  of  human 
life,  or  the  arts  and  crafts.  It  is  a  matter  for  dis- 
cussion whether  there  is  only  one  science  of  Nature 
or  whether  it  is  truer  to  say  that  there  are  several, 
but  all  are  agreed  that  the  value  and  the  progressive- 
ness  of  the  sciences  depends  in  part  on  the  degree 
of  their  correlation. 


CHAPTER  V 

SCIENCE   AND   PHILOSOPHY 

"Truth  is  on  a  curve  whose  asymptote  our 
spirit  follows  eternally." — LEO  ERRERA. 

The  Aims  of  Science  and  Philosophy — Twofold  Relation  be- 
tween Science  and  Philosophy — Limitations  of  the  Scientific 
Account  of  Things — Problems  before  which  Science  and 
Philosophy  Meet — Origin  of  Living  Creatures  upon  the 
Earth— The  Secret  of  the  Organism — An  Illustration — 
The  Soul  and  Body  Problem — A  Question — Summary. 

THE  AIMS  OF  SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY. — 
In  this  little  book  we  have  emphasized  the  view 
of  many  modern  thinkers,  that  it  is  the  chief 
business  of  the  experimental  sciences,  whether 
physical  or  psychical,  to  discover  "descriptive 
formulae  by  the  aid  of  which  the  various  processes 
which  make  up  the  physical  and  psychical  orders 
may  be  depicted  and  calculated."  The  aim  of 
science  is  descriptive  formulation;  let  us  ask  of 
the  philosophers  how  their  inquiry  is  related  to 
ours. 

Prof.  A.  E.  Taylor,  to  whose  Elements  of 
Metaphysics  I  owe  a  debt  of  obligation  which  I 
124 


SCIENCE  AND    PHILOSOPHY          125 

very  gratefully  acknowledge,  states  the  differ- 
ence between  Science  and  Philosophy  as  follows: — 
"The  work  of  the  Philosophy  of  Nature  and  of 
Mind  only  begins  where  that  of  the  experimental 
sciences  leaves  off.  Its  data  are  not  particular 
facts,  as  directly  amassed  by  experiment  and 
observation,  but  the  hypotheses  used  by  experi- 
mental science  for  the  co-ordination  and  de- 
scription of  those  facts.  And  it  examines  these 
hypotheses,  not  with  the  object  of  modifying  their 
structure  so  as  to  include  new  facts,  or  to  include 
the  old  facts  in  a  simpler  form,  but  purely  for  the 
purpose  of  estimating  their  value  as  an  account  of 
ultimately  real  existence.  Whether  the  hypoth- 
eses are  adequate  as  implements  for  the  calcu- 
lation of  natural  processes  is  a  question  which 
Philosophy,  when  it  understands  its  place,  leaves 
entirely  to  the  special  sciences;  whether  they  can 
claim  to  be  more  than  useful  formulae  for  calcu- 
lation, i.  e.  whether  they  give  us  knowledge  of 
ultimate  Reality,  is  a  problem  which  can  only  be 
dealt  with  by  the  science  which  systematically 
analyses  the  meaning  of  ^reality,  i.  e.  by  Meta- 
physics. We  may  perhaps  follow  the  usage"  of 
some  recent  writers  in  marking  this  difference  of 
object  by  a  difference  in  terminology,  and  say 
that  the  goal  of  experimental  science  is  the  De- 
scription of  facts,  the  goal  of  Metaphysics  their 
Interpretation.  The  difference  of  aim  is,  how- 


126     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

ever,  not  ultimate.  Description  of  facts,  when 
once  we  cease  to  be  content  with  such  description 
as  will  subserve  the  purpose  of  calculation  and 
call  for  description  of  the  fact  as  it  really  is,  of 
itself  becomes  metaphysical  interpretation." 

We  have  seen  that  one  of  the  aims  of  science 
is  to  distinguish  what  "seems"  from  what  "is," 
and  to  do  so  generally,  not  particularly,  is  the 
chief  task  of  metaphysics.  "Metaphysics  sets 
itself  more  systematically  and  universally  than 
any  other  science,  to  ask  what,  after  all,  is  meant 
by  being  real,  and  to  what  degree  our  various 
scientific  and  non-scientific  theories  about  the 
world  are  in  harmony  with  the  universal  charac- 
teristics of  real  existence.  Hence,  Metaphysics 
has  been  called  "an  attempt  to  become  aware  of 
and  to  doubt  all  preconceptions";  and  again,  "an 
unusually  resolute  effort  to  think  consistently." 

Something  is  always  going  wrong,  however, 
when  the  boundaries  between  different  disci- 
plines begin  to  appear  static,  like  stone  walls.  The 
various  disciplines  are  like  the  functions  of  an 
organism,  which  work  into  one  another's  hands, 
being  complementary.  Pigeon-holing  is  simply 
a  device,  part  of  our  intellectual  division  of  labour. 
Scjeaca-js  an  intellectual  inquiry  with__plefinite 
purposes — e.  g.  of  discovering  uniformities  of 
sequence,  and  with  definite  limitations,  such  as 
that  of  not  inquiring  into  the  larger  significance 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       1*7 

of  its  results.  But  it  often  strains  at  its  self-made 
leash. 

Let  us  take  an  example.  It  is  the  business  of 
the  zoological  evolutionist  to  discover  what  he 
can  in  regard  to  the  actual  history  of  the  various 
races  of  animals.  He  has  to  discover,  for  instance, 
if  he  can,  the  pedigree  of  Mammals.  But  his 
task  does  not  end  there,  he  has  to  inquire  into  the 
factors  operative  in  this  evolution — arguing  back 
from  what  is  known  of  the  laws  of  variation  and 
heredity,  selection  and  isolation.  But  the  more 
complete  his  description  becomes,  the  more  inevi- 
tably, as  it  seems  to  us,  is  he  led  towards  reflec- 
tion on  the  evolution  of  Mammals  as  a  particular 
chapter  in  a  great  book.  It  cannot  be  torn  out 
and  understood  by  itself.  It  came  about  after 
preparations  that  we  dimly  descry  being  made  in 
the  mist  of  millions  of  years  ago.  It  came  about 
in  a  natural,  predetermined  fashion,  and  at  a 
particular  stage  in  the  history  of  other  things, 
such  as  the  Earth  itself.  Moreover,  it  was  part 
of  the  preparation  for  the  Supreme  Mammal — 
Man  himself.  The  evolution  of  Mammals,  along 
with  the  august  process  of  which  it  was  a  part, 
must  here  be  seen  in  its  larger  significance — it 
led  on  even  to  the  science  which,  in  pursuing 
this  thought,  transcends  itself. 

TWOFOLD  RELATION  BETWEEN  SCIENCE  AND 
PHILOSOPHY. — (1)  Those  who  take  life  easily, 


128      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

sailing  their  intellectual  craft  in  the  lea  of  their 
particular  shore  of  well-ascertained  fact,  are  apt 
to  see  things  in  the  clearness  of  a  false  simplicity. 
Science  has  come  to  know,  they  tell  us,  the  ins 
and  outs  of  the  stuff  the  world  is  made  of — Matter, 
whichjsjbuilt jipof  molecules,  whiclij.reconiposed 
ofatoms,  which  consist  of  Corpuscles  or  electrons^. 
And  bcience~llas~also^ome^to  know,  they  tell  us, 
the  power  that  is  resident  in  the  world — Energy, 
gfaose  measure  is  Force.  It  is  a  power  of  doing 
work,  which  is  always  passing  from  form  to  form 
without  any  loss  or  any  gain.  Give  us  Matter 
and  Energy,  they  say,  and  we  will  make  a  world 
out  of  them.  Just  as  the  chemist  can  build  up 
urea  and  sugar  and  indigo  from  simple  substances, 
so  Nature  long  ago,  in  some  unknown  hotbed, 
made  a  synthesis  of  proteids  which  combined  to 
form  small  viable  organisms.  These  multiplied, 
and  spread  themselves,  and  varied  under  the  stim- 
uli of  new  surroundings.  Given  Variations  and 
plenty  of  time,  Selection  and  Isolation  can  do 
the  rest.  And  just  as  consciousness  emerges  at 
an  uncertain  stage  in  the  development  of  the 
individual  egg-cell,  so  in  the  history  of  animal 
organisms  there  was  an  evolution  of  mind.  Now, 
far  be  it  from  us  to  say  that  there  is  not  consider- 
able truth  in  this  description  of  what  may  have 
occurred,  but  it  is  certainly  far  too  facile  and 
easy-going.  It  slurs  over  gigantic  difficulties  and 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       129 

abounds  in  equally  large  assumptions.  It  may 
be  criticized  first  scientifically,  and  that  is  well; 
what  remains  may  then  be  criticized  philosophi- 
cally, which  is,  for  developing  a  fit  and  proper 
frame  of  mind,  still  better. 

Now  we  have  in  Metaphysics  a  critical  disci- 
pline in  consistent  thinking;  it  has  an  ideal  of 
complete  explanation;  and  it  is  able  to  test 
scientific  theories  with  reference  to  this  ideal 
formal  standard.  In  this  sense  Metaphysics 
functions  as  a  sublime  Logic,  testing  the  com- 
pleteness and  consistency  of  our  scientific  descrip- 
tions, whether  of  things  as  they  are,  or  of  the  way 
in  which  they  have  come  to  be,  and  it  is  desirable 
for  the  sake  of  Science  that  it  should  be  used. 
The  account  that  a  Science  gives  of  part  of  the 
world  must  be  not  only  self-consistent,  and  con- 
gruent with  the  results  of  other  sciences,  it  must 
also  submit  to  the  formal  requirements  of  meta- 
physics. This  criticism  of  categories  and  systema- 
tizations  is  the  chief  service  that  Metaphysics  has 
to  render  to  science. 

From  this  point  of  view,  Philosophy  has  been 
called  "scientia  scientiarum" — "a  science  which 
determines  the  principles  and  conditions,  the 
limits  and  relations  of  the  sciences."  But  to  this 
claim  vigorous  objections  have  been  raised.  For 
it  is  the  strong  opinion  of  many  who  have  made 
great  contributions  to  science,  that  the  scientific 


130     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

Investigator  has  no  right  to  waive  the  responsi- 
bility of  determining  "the  principles  and  condi- 
tions, the  limits  and  relations,  of  the  sciences." 
If  he  cannot  determine  these,  who  can?  Now  it 
may  be  that  the  definition  quoted  is  an  unfortu- 
nate one,  and  the  objection  not  without  justifica- 
tion, but  the  important  point  is  this,  that  the 
categories  and  systematizations  of  science  should 
be  criticized,  and  this  requires  expert  training. 
It  can  only  be  done  by  a  philosopher  to  whom 
the  scientific  discipline  is  real,  or  by  a  scientific 
investigator  to  whom  the  philosophical  discipline 
is  real.  But  it  has  to  be  done. 

When  a  well-thought-out  scientific  exposition 
disturbs  the  reader's  preconceptions,  or  takes  him 
beyond  his  usual  depth  of  analysis,  he  has  his 
revenge  in  dubbing  it  "metaphysical."  But  this 
is  an  ignorant  sneer,  if  metaphysics  means  "the 
critical  and  systematic  analysis  of  our  concep- 
tions." It  is  an  intellectual  discipline,  an  actively 
sceptical  inquiry,  a  criticism  of  categories — and  it 
may  be  ranked  beside  Mathematics  and  Logic  in 
the  general  scheme  of  knowledge. 

(2)  The  various  sciences  supply  partial  pictures 
of  the  world — pictures  taken  from  different  points 
of  view.  It  is  fojr_metaghysiGS_to_combine  these 
pictures,  not  as  one  makes  a  composite  photo- 
graph by  placing  one  print  on  the  top  of  another, 
but  rather  as  one  combines  two  views  in  a  stereo- 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       131 

scope.  In  its  constructive  Junction^  mejgghysicg 
aims  jit  ^nTairround  and  consistentjyiew  of  the 
whole  system,  and  it  reac^es~tEis,  ^should  reach 
this,  not  m  an  a  priori  fashion,  but_by  taking, 
account  of  the  raw  material  which  the  sciences 
furnStT.  In  this  way  Science  contributes  to  Meta- 
pKysics. 

If  Metaphysics  does  not  intrude  into  the  prov- 
ince of  any  particular  science,  and  if  it  is  not 
another  name  for  a  synthesis  of  the  sciences,  what 
is  its  province?  All  thinking  has  to  do  with  facts 
of  experience,  and  these  form  the  subject-matter 
of  the  sciences.  Where,  then,  does  Metaphysics 
come  in?  The  answer  that  will  suffice  for  our 
purpose  in  this  volume  is  simple  enough:  that 
Metaphysics  seeks  to  discover  the  general  condi- 
tions of  giving  a  complete  and  consistent  formu- 
lation of  experience — a  formulation  which  has  its 
foundations  in  the  sciences,  but  transcends  them 
in  an  attempt  to  answer  imperious  questions 
which  Science  does  not  even  ask. 

For  most  men  it  is  quite  impossible  to  remain 
satisfied  with  the  systematic  descriptions  which 
science  supplies,  they  have  to  go  on  to  form 
"some  coherent  conception  of  the  scheme  of 
things  to  which  they  belong,"  and  in  this  they 
necessarily  become  metaphysical.  Now  it  seems 
good  sense  that  they  should  try  to  do  this  con- 
sciously and  not  at  random,  using  the  experience 


132      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

of  the  ancient  science  of  mental  construction 
whose  foundations  were  laid  by  Aristotle.  Science 
brings  in  great  wealth  of  raw  material,  but  the 
architectural  genius  must  be  sought  in  Philosophy. 

LIMITATIONS  OF  THE  SCIENTIFIC  ACCOUNT  OF 
THINGS. — The  plain  man's  question  is,  Can  you 
give  an  account  of  this?  What  is  this  modern 
modesty  of  science,  that  it  does  not  pretend  to 
explain  anything?  Can  you  give  an  account  of 
these  phenomena  or  can  you  not?  Let  us  consider 
the  limitations  of  the  scientific  account  of  things. 

Science  shows,  often  after  much  study,  that  a 
certain  collocation  of  antecedents  and  no  other 
will  result  in  a  certain  collocation  of  consequents 
and  no  other.  But  the  consequents  are  often  very 
different  from  the  antecedents,  and  we  cannot 
say  that  we  know  how  they  come  about.  Even 
in  an  exact  science  like  Chemistry  this  limitation 
of  scientific  description  is  well  illustrated.  We 
know  that  oxygen  and  hydrogen  unite  under 
certain  conditions  to  form  something  qualitatively 
very  different  from  either  of  them,  viz.  water,  but 
we  do  not  know  how  it  is  that  water  results. 
Even  in  more  complex  cases,  we  know  the  condi- 
tions of  the  combination,  and  we  have  ingenious 
theories  as  to  how  the  elements  involved  change 
partners  and  form  new  linkages,  but  we  do  not 
really  understand  how  the  result  should  be  as  it  is. 
Still  less  can  we  predict  what  will  ensue  from  the 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       133 

previously  untried  combination  of  two  highly 
complex  substances.  It  is  like  an  untried  experi- 
ment in  Heredity. 

It  comes  to  this:  that  the  only  cases  in  which 
we  can  say  that  our  scientific  account  is  complete 
and  absolutely  satisfactory,  are  cases  of  mechan- 
ics— most  beautifully  in  Gravitational  Astronomy 
— where  the  resultant  is  just  a  new  form  of  the 
components.  Then  only  can  we  say  with  a  clear 
intellectual  conscience,  "Causa  sequat  effectum." 
Science  is  continually  showing  that  one  particular 
collocation  of  matter  and  energy  passes  into 
another,  but  when  the  chains  of  sequence  that  it 
chronicles  are  intricate  it  is  no  longer  plain  that 
the  resultant  must  be  as  it  is  and  not  otherwise. 

Again,  the  terms  of  scientific  interpretations  are 
not  self-explanatory.  The  biologist's  cheques  are 
backed  by  "Organism,"  "Protoplasm,"  "Hered- 
ity," and  so  on,  and  no  one  can  suppose  that 
these  are  self-explanatory  terms.  Some  term  of 
this  sort  may  be  an  absolutely  necessary  postu- 
late in  Biology,  but  it  obviously  means  starting 
with  a  great  deal  "given."  And  when  we  pass  to 
more  exact  sciences,  and  find  the  cheques  backed 
"Gravitation,"  "Chemical  Affinity,"  and  so  on, 
we  must  again  recognize  that  a  good  deal  is  taken 
as  "given." 

It  may  be  said,  however,  that  these  terms  of 
description  are  continually  undergoing  a  process 


134      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

of  simplification,  and  that  is  true.  "Heat** 
and  "Light"  have  yielded  to  simplifying  analysis; 
perhaps  "Chemical  Affinity"  is  at  present  yield- 
ing; perhaps  the  physicist  may  some  day  discover 
the  true  inwardness  of  Gravitation,  and  be  able 
to  tell  us  what  really  happens  in  the  invisible 
world  when  the  apple  falls  in  the  orchard.  It  is 
the  aim  of  Science  to  reduce  the  number  of  abso- 
lutely necessary  concepts,  but  it  does  not  in  so 
doing  make  those  that  remain  any  simpler. 
"Matter"  and  "Energy"  or  other  terms  of  the 
same  order  of  magnitude  are  always,  as  it  were, 
expanding  as  others  are  forced  into  them,  and 
remain  as  fundamental  terms  which  are  not  self- 
explanatory. 

Taking  "matter,"  for  instance,  which  has 
seemed  to  some  the  most  trustworthy  bedrock 
on  which  to  base  their  theoretical  reconstruction 
of  the  world,  what  a  visionary  thing  it  has  become 
in  the  hands  of  modern  physics.  The  founders 
of  the  molecular  theory  laid  down  the  idea  that 
each  kind  of  matter  has  its  characteristic  kind  of 
particle;  Dalton  showed  that  we  must  think  of 
these  molecules  as  built  up  of  atoms;  modern 
work  is  suggesting  that  there  may  be  a  common 
basis  for  matter  of  all  kinds,  as  if  the  different 
kinds  of  atoms  consisted  of  different  numbers  of 
smaller  corpuscles  of  the  same  kind.  These  are 
the  negatively  electrified  particles — the  corpuscles 


SCIENCE  AN*  PHILI(g*PHY       135 

or  electrons  which  all  bodies  give  off  under  suit- 
able treatment,  such  as  raising  to  incandescence 
or  exposure  to  ultra-violet  light.  The  atom  is 
now  supposed  to  be  built  up  of  units  of  negative 
electricity  and  of  an  equal  number  of  units  of 
positive  electricity,  of  very  much  greater  mass, 
the  number  of  either  kind  being  proportional  to 
the  atomic  weight;  and  the  whole  system  is  in  a 
state  of  equilibrium  or  of  steady  motion. 

We  must  understand,  however,  that  this  elec- 
trical theory  of  matter  is  far  beyond  verification, 
that  it  makes  big  assumptions,  and  that  it  leaves 
many  difficulties.  Prof.  Poynting  writes  in  regard 
to  it:  "The  chief  value  of  such  a  hypothesis  lies, 
not  hi  its  objective  truth,  but  in  its  success  in 
accounting  for,  in  co-ordinating,  what  we  actually 
observe,  and  in  predicting  results  which  are  after- 
wards verified.  It  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  'working 
model '  which  gives  the  same  results  as  the  actual 
atom,  though,  it  may  be,  by  quite  different 
machinery." 

So  that,  after  all,  the  theory  of  the  electric  atom 
does  not  do  more  than  represent  the  unknown 
reality  in  a  faithfully  symbolical  matter.  It  is  a 
working  thought-model.  But  how  far  we  are  get- 
ting from  the  old  "matter"  of  the  naive  material- 
ists. And  yet  the  difficulties  have  only  begun, 
for  the  matter  of  physical  analysis  is  an  abstrac- 
tion, whereas  the  matter  of  our  direct  experience 


136     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

is  in  certain  conditions  the  physical  basis  of  "life" 
and  the  home  of  the  "soul."  And  beyond  this 
there  is  the  philosophical  aspect  of  the  problem 
of  matter. 

As  in  its  analytic  so  in  its  historical  treatment 
of  things  Science  must  confess  its  limitations.  It 
begins,  not  at  the  beginning — that  is  impossible, 
but  from  something  "given,"  which  it  does  not 
explain,  which  in  the  last  resource  it  cannot  explain. 
From  this  something  given — say  primitive  Amoe- 
bae— much  seems  to  have  been  evolved,  and 
Biology  seeks  to  discover  both  the  stages  and 
the  operative  factors  in  the  evolution.  But  if 
the  primitive  Amoebae  gave  rise  "in  the  natural 
course  of  events"  to  higher  organisms,  and  these 
to  higher,  until  there  emerged  the  supreme  Mam- 
mal, who  by  and  by  had  a  theory  of  it  all,  then 
the  primitive  Amoebae  which  had  in  them  the 
promise  and  potency  of  all  this  were  very  wonder- 
ful Amoebae  indeed.  There  must  have  been  more 
in  them  than  met  the  eye!  We  must  stock  them 
with  initiatives  at  least.  We  are  taking  a  good 
deal  as  "given." 

Finally,  it  must  be  recognized  that  the  terms  of 
scientific  descriptions  in  their  higher  reaches  are 
"conceptual  formulae."  We  speak  glibly  of 
"Matter,"  "Energy,"  "Ether,"  "Atom,"  and  so 
on,  but  these  are  intellectual  counters,  rather 
than  the  realities  themselves.  They  are,  so  to 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       137 

speak,  counterfoils  or  symbols  of  reality.  We  may 
well  say  of  them  what  Hobbes  said  of  words: 
"They  are  wise  men's  counters,  they  do  but 
reckon  by  them,  but  they  are  the  money  of  fools." 

Yet  we  must  not  react  too  far  from  the  realism 
of  old-fashioned  Science!  For  while  it  is  true 
that  Science  only  gets  at  fractions  of  reality,  and 
that  it  works  with  formulae  and  intellectual 
counters,  scientific  conclusions  are  none  the  less 
trustworthy  indices  of  what  does  actually  happen. 
Otherwise  we  could  not  use  them  as  a  basis  for 
safe  prophecy.  No  one  knows  what  matter,  gravi- 
tation, inertia,  and  sp  on,  really  are;  but  the 
established  formulations  which  deal  with  them 
have  certainly  a  close  correspondence  with  real- 
ity. We  need  not  do  more  than  refer  to  the 
familiar  but  astounding  fact  that,  given  three 
good  observations  of  a  comet,  and  we  can 
prophesy  with  absolute  certainty  when  it,  barring 
accidents,  will  return! 

PROBLEMS  BEFORE  WHICH  SCIENCE  AND  PHI- 
LOSOPHY MEET. — The  world  is  full  of  unsolved 
problems — which  give  it  part  of  its  charm  and 
interest,  and  there  is  no  prospect  of  the  supply 
running  short.  Some  of  these  unsolved  problems 
are  scientific,  and  he  is  rash  indeed  who  will  call 
any  of  them  insoluble.  Many  of  the  insoluble 
problems  of  our  forefathers  have  their  solutions 
stated  in  our  text-books,  and  Science  is  still  very 


138      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

young.  Moreover,  some  of  the  very  difficult 
unsolved  problems  are  already  being  nibbled  at 
by  scientific  methods,  which  in  itself  is  hopeful. 

Every  one  must  admit,  however,  that  we  are 
confronted  with  a  number  of  problems  in  regard 
to  which  we  find  it  difficult  to  think  with  clearness, 
and  in  regard  to  which  we  seem  to  make  little 
progress.  We  refer  to  problems  like  that  of  the 
origin  of  living  organisms  upon  the  earth,  or  that 
of  the  living  body  as  contrasted  with  an  inanimate 
system,  or  that  of  the  relation  of  soul  and  body. 
In  reference  to  those  and  similar  problems  Science 
has  certain  contributions  to  make,  but  these  have 
tended  to  increase  rather  than  lessen  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  situation.  Thus  it  is  much  more 
difficult  for  us  to  believe  in  spontaneous  genera- 
tion than  it  was  for  Harvey;  it  is  much  more 
difficult  for  us  to  accept  a  mechanistic  physiology 
than  it  was  for  Descartes. 

Now  in  regard  to  these  very  difficult  problems 
we  should  at  least  know  where  we  stand,  and  the 
scientific  answer  must  be ' '  Ignoramus . "  In  regard 
to  a  problem  like  the  origin  of  life  the  only  scien- 
tific position  at  present  is  one  of  agnosticism.  For 
most  minds,  however,  the  consistently  agnostic 
position  is  difficult.  As  scientific  inquirers  we 
piously  adhere  to  it,  but  when  we  go  out  into  the 
street  we  speculate  with  the  best  of  them.  We 
make  hypotheses,  the  pros  and  cons  of  which 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       139 

can  be  discussed,  and  we  pass  insidiously  from 
Science  to  Metaphysics.  It  is  in  the  criticism  of 
these  hypothetical  constructions,  which  avowedly 
go  beyond  verifiable  science,  that  philosophical 
criticism  is  of  great  value.  Let  us  say  a  little,  then, 
in  regard  to  two  or  three  of  the  problems  before 
which  Science  and  Philosophy  meet. 

ORIGIN  OF  LIVING  CREATURES  UPON  THE 
EARTH. — In  the  volume  on  EVOLUTION  in  this 
Library,  there  is  a  brief  discussion  of  this  old- 
standing  problem,  to  the  solution  of  which  we 
do  not  seem  to  be  coming  any  nearer.  We  know 
that  the  hot  Earth  must  have  been  tenantless, 
that  until  it  cooled  and  consolidated  it  was  quite 
unfit  to  be  a  home  of  life.  But  we  do  not  know 
how  living  organisms  began  to  be  upon  the  earth. 

Did  germs  of  life  come  to  our  earth  embosomed 
in  meteorites — -from  elsewhere,  or  had  they  their 
cradle  here — the  offspring  of  inorganic  evolution? 
We  do  not  know.  May  it  have  been,  as  Pfliiger 
and  Verworn  have  suggested,  that  the  cyanogen 
radical  (CN)  was  the  starting-point  of  the  pro- 
teid  molecule  which  is  an  essential  constituent  of 
the  physical  basis  of  life?  We  cannot  discuss  the 
matter,  but  we  must  remember  (1)  that  although 
the  synthetic  chemist  can  do  wonders  in  build- 
ing up  complex  things  from  simple  things  he  has 
not  yet  come  near  the  artificial  synthesis  of  pro- 
teids;  (2)  that  we  are  at  a  loss  to  suggest  what 


140      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

in  Nature's  laboratory  of  chemical  synthesis — a 
somewhat  hypothetical  witch's  cauldron — could 
take  the  place  of  the  directive  chemist;  and  (3) 
that  there  is  a  great  gap  between  making  »rgani» 
matter  and  making  an  organism. 

The  origin  of  organisms  upon  the  earth  remains 
a  riddle,  and  the  most  that  we  can  say  is,  that  the 
hypothesis  of  the  evolution  of  the  living  from  the 
not-living  is  in  harmony  with  the  general  trend 
of  evolutionary  theory.  If  it  should  become  a 
tenable  theory,  the  dignity  and  value  of  living 
creatures  and  of  our  own  life  would  not  be  in  any 
way  affected.  On  the  contrary,  if  the  dust  of  the 
earth  did  naturally  give  rise  to  living  creatures, 
if  they  are  in  a  real  sense  born  of  her  and  the 
sunshine,  then  the  whole  world  becomes  more 
continuous  and  vital,  and  all  the  inorganic  groan- 
ing and  travailing  becomes  more  intelligible. 

We  venture  to  quote  in  this  connection  a 
passage  from  Prof.  Lloyd  Morgan's  Interpretation 
of  Nature,  which  seems  to  us  peculiarly  useful  in 
a  little  book  like  this.  "It  is  true,  and  should  be 
frankly  admitted,  that  in  the  present  state  of 
natural  knowledge  the  antecedent  conditions  of 
the  genesis  of  protoplasm  are  unknown."  .  .  . 
But,  "those  who  would  single  out  from  among 
the  multitudinous  differentiations  of  an  evolving 
universe  this  alone  for  special  interposition  would 
seem  to  do  little  honour  to  the  Divinity  they 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       141 

profess  to  serve.  Theodore  Parker  gave  expres- 
sion to  a  broader  and  more  reverent  theology 
when  he  said:  'The  universe,  broad  and  deep  and 
high,  is  a  handful  of  dust  which  God  enchants. 
He  is  the  mysterious  magic  which  possesses' — 
not  protoplasm  merely,  but — '  the  world ' "  (Lloyd 
Morgan,  1905,  p.  77). 

How  did  living  creatures  begin  to  be  upon  the 
earth?  In  point  of  Science,  we  do  not  know.  We 
cherish  the  hypothesis,  however,  that  living  crea- 
tures evolved  from  not-living  matter  upon  the 
Earth.  We  do  so  mainly  because  we  do  not  know 
of  any  better  hypothesis,  and  because  it  conforms 
with  our  (metaphysical)  ideal  of  continuity  and 
with  the  general  idea  of  evolution.  But  we  are 
aware  that  the  hypothesis  is  beset  with  very 
serious  scientific  difficulties  and  with  not  less 
serious  philosophical  difficulties. 

Consider,  for  a  moment,  a  famous  passage 
from  Huxley:  "If  the  fundamental  proposition 
of  evolution  is  true,  namely,  that  the  entire  world, 
animate  and  inanimate,  is  the  result  of  the  mutual 
interaction,  according  to  definite  laws,  of  forces 
possessed  by  the  molecules  which  made  up  the 
primitive  nebulosity  of  the  universe;  then  it  is 
no  less  certain  that  the  present  actual  world 
reposed  potentially  in  the  cosmic  vapour,  and 
that  an  intelligence,  if  great  enough,  could  from 
his  knowledge  of  the  properties  of  the  molecules 


142     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

of  that  vapour  have  predicted  the  state  of  the 
fauna  in  Great  Britain  in  1888  with  as  much 
certitude  as  we  say  what  will  happen  to  the  vapour 
of  our  breath  on  a  cold  day  in  winter." 

This  very  strong  and  confident  statement 
appears  to  us  to  illustrate  the  need  for  philo- 
sophical criticism.  As  Bergson  points  out,  it 
denies  that  time  really  counts;  it  also  denies 
that  organisms  are  more  than  mechanisms.  It 
denies  the  creative  individuality  of  the  organism, 
which  trades  with  time  in  an  unpredictable 
way  all  its  own.  It  may  be  right  in  these  denials, 
but  the  points  are  arguable.  Moreover,  the  gen- 
eral idea  of  evolution  does  not  warrant  us  in  sup- 
posing that  intelligent  behaviour,  for  instance, 
"reposed  potentially  in  the  cosmic  vapour"  and 
could  be  predicted  from  a  "knowledge  of  the 
properties  of  the  molecules  of  that  vapour";  for 
molecules  and  the  like  are  abstractions  of  physical 
science  which,  for  the  purposes  of  that  science, 
may  be  treated  as  if  they  represented  the  whole  of 
the  reality.  The  "primitive  nebulosity  of  the 
universe"  was  a  reality  which,  for  the  purposes 
of  physical  science,  would  be  analysable  into  a 
whirling  sea  of  molecules,  but  that  certainly  can- 
not have  been  the  whole  truth  about  it  if  in  it 
there  reposed  potentially  the  present  actual  world. 
To  take  an  analogy  from  development,  there  is  no 
reason  to  believe  that  we  should  have  exhausted 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       143 

the  reality  of  a  human  ovum  if  we  knew  all  about 
the  properties  of  its  proteid  molecules,  nor  that 
we  could  predict  from  that  knowledge  whether 
the  ovum  would  develop  into  a  genius  or  a  fool. 

THE  SECRET  OF  THE  ORGANISM. — One  of  the 
boundary-lines  which  is  prominent  in  modern  eyes 
is  that  between  the  inanimate  and  the  animate, 
the  not-living  and  the  living.  We  call  the  bulk 
of  things  we  see. "purely  physical";  we  call  a 
minority  "physical  and  vital."  We  speak  of  this 
distinction  as  if  it  were  self-evident,  but  we  must 
not  forget  the  panzoism  of  the  savage  and  the 
child,  the  poet  and  the  philosopher.  To  the 
former  the  distinction  is  unknown;  by  the  latter 
it  has  been  transcended.  To  simple  people  and 
to  children,  not-living  bodies  are  often  as  alive 
as  birds,  and  even  the  matter-of-fact  man  forgets 
his  conventional  philosophy  on  the  golf-course 
and  the  curling-pond,  commanding  and  upbraid- 
ing, encouraging  and  condemning,  his  ball  or  stone 
as  if  it  were  indeed  a  living  creature.  In  spite  of 
many  resolute  efforts  on  the  part  of  philosophers 
and  scientists  alike — the  boundary-line  between 
the  living  and  the  not-living  remains,  and  seems 
likely  to  remain  for  long.  As  it  is  of  some  impor- 
tance in  our  outlook,  let  us  consider  this  distinction 
between  plants,  animals  and  persons  on  the  one 
hand  and  "mere  things"  on  the  other. 

In  the  first  place  in  regard  to  the  inanimate, 


144     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  purely  physical  order:  we  almost  always 
know  what  to  expect  from  a  stone;  it  is  among 
the  living  that  the  unexpected  happens.  There 
is  absolute  uniformity  of  response  in  the  physical 
order;  there  is  caprice  and  humour  in  the  ani- 
mate order.  We  cannot  recognize  either  individ- 
uality or  purposiveness  in  inanimate  systems. 
It  is  true  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  effective 
work  done  in  the  purely  physical  order.  The  sea 
sculptures  the  shore,  the  river  cuts  a  deep  channel 
in  the  rock,  the  glacier  wears  the  mountains 
smooth — but  what  is  done  is  mechanically  deter- 
mined by  the  external  conditions,  not  by  any 
freely  moving,  purposive  individuality.  And 
while  inanimate  objects  have  a  certain  power  of 
response  to  external  stimuli,  as  the  gunpowder 
shows  when  a  lighted  match  is  applied  to  it,  the 
responses  of  a  living  creature  in  normal  surround- 
ings are  of  a  higher  order  of  efficiency,  they  make 
for  self-preservation  and  betterment. 

In  discussing  the  characteristic  features  of  living 
creatures  in  the  volume  on  EVOLUTION,  we  have 
admitted  that  it  is  profitable  to  compare  a  living 
creature  to  a  machine  and  a  fertile  method  of 
discovery  to  press  this  comparison  to  its  farthest. 
"Yet  the  living  organism  differs  from  any  machine 
in  its  greater  efficiency,  and  ...  in  being  a  self- 
stoking,  self-repairing,  self-preservative,  self-ad- 
justing, self -increasing,  self-reproducing  engine! 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY     145 

And  this  also  must  be  remembered  in  comparing 
a  living  creature  with  a  machine,  that  the  latter 
is  no  ordinary  sample  of  the  inorganic  world.  It 
is  an  elaborated  tool,  an  extended  hand,  and  has 
inside  of  it  a  human  thought.  It  is  because  of 
these  qualities  that  highly  complex  machines  come 
to  be  so  like  organisms.  But  no  machine  profits 
by  experience,  nor  trades  with  time  as  organisms 
do."  Only  living  creatures  have  a  persistent 
unified  behaviour,  a  power  of  profiting  by  experi- 
ence, and  a  creative  capacity  as  genuine  agents. 
Here,  then,  we  have  one  of  the  great  contrasts 
in  Nature,  between  the  purely  physical  order  and 
the  world  of  organisms.  The  scientific  question 
is  whether  the  concepts  and  formulae  that  suffice 
for  the  description  of  the  inorganic  world  are  also 
sufficient  for  the  description  of  vital  functions 
and  animate  behaviour.  The  answer  of  the 
mechanistic  school  is  "Yes";  all  others  say 
"No,"  but  not  always  for  the  same  reasons. 
We  say  "No"  for  the  following  reasons: — 
(1)  There  are  many  chemical  and  physical 
operations  in  a  living  body,  but  as  a  matter  of 
fact  no  complete  physico-chemical  description 
has  yet  been  given  of  any  distinctively  vital 
activity.  It  has  to  be  remembered  that  the  most 
salient  fact  is  the  correlation  and  control  of  all 
the  manifold  chemical  and  physical  processes  so 
that  a  unified  behaviour  results. 


146      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

(2)  It  is  not  a  conclusive  argument,  perhaps, 
but  one  of  some  weight,  that  if  we  have  not  yet 
succeeded  in  giving  a  physico-chemical  descrip- 
tion of  a  simple  vital  process,  such  as  the  passage 
of  digested  food  from  the  alimentary  canal  into  the 
blood,  or  the  filtering  of  the  blood  by  the  kidney, 
we  need  not  at  present  seriously  concern  ourselves 
in  regard  to  the  possibility  of  giving  a  physico- 
chemical  description  of  growth,  cyclical  develop- 
ment, or  every-day  behaviour.  If  we  think  of 
development  for  a  moment,  we  cannot  but  feel 
that  the  questions  which  the  facts  raise  seem 
very  unlikely  to  receive  an  answer  in  terms  of 
mechanism.  How  are  the  heritable  characters 
of  the  race  summed  up  potentially  within  the 
minute  germ  cells?  How  do  they  gradually  find 
expression  in  the  individual  development,  so  that 
what  we  call  differentiation  results?  What  is  the 
nature  of  the  compelling  necessity  that  mints  and 
coins  the  chick  out  of  a  drop  of  living  matter? 
What  is  it  that  regulates  the  ordered  progress 
which,  by  intricate  and  often  strangely  circuitous 
paths,  leads  to  the  fully-formed  organism?  It  is 
certainly  wonderful  the  individual  unpacking  of 
the  racial  treasure-box! 

(8)  But  the  most  satisfactory  reason,  perhaps, 
is  the  one  referred  to  in  the  chapter  on  Scientific 
Method,  that  the  results  of  applying  physico- 
chemical  analysis  to  the  activities  of  living  crea- 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       147 

' 
tures  do  not  make  these  much  more  intelligible. 

They  do  not  give  us  the  kind  of  answer  that  we 
want  in  our  endeavour  to  understand  these 
creatures  better.  Their  development,  their  be- 
haviour, and  the  correlation  of  their  internal 
activities,  cannot  be  understood  except  on  the 
assumption  that  they  are  historical  beings — as 
Bergson  has  so  well  insisted. 

Here  the  scientific  position,  all  too  briefly  in- 
dicated, ends;  but  it  is  open  to  the  philosopher  to 
go  farther.  All  that  we  have  said  is  that  the 
mechanistic  formulation  of  living  creatures  does 
not  answer  the  distinctively  biological  questions, 
but  for  some  minds  it  is  imperative  to  go  farther. 
Where  Science  ends  Philosophy  begins;  and  in 
Dr.  Hans  Driesch's  Science  and  Philosophy  of  the 
Organism  we  have  one  of  the  finest  recent  illus- 
trations of  a  welcome  partnership  of  the  two 
disciplines.  We  need  not  attempt  to  discuss  his 
strenuously  thought-out  theory  of  Vitalism,  the 
point  for  us  here  is  simply  that  after  giving  three 
scientific  proofs  that  the  mechanistic  theory  will 
not  work,  he  goes  on  to  a  philosophical  construc- 
tion— the  conception  of  the  "Entelechy" — an  im- 
material autonomous  factor  which  punctuates  the 
transformations  of  energy  that  go  on  within  the 
body.  The  "Entelechy"  is  the  living  creature's 
innermost  secret,  its  directive  soul,  and  whether 
Dr.  Driesch  has  been  successful  or  not,  he  has 


148      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

certainly  been  extraordinarily  ingenious  in  evad- 
ing the  old  criticism  of  crude  views  that  the  in- 
f  ynuated  immaterial  factor,  if  it  is  to  be  effectivej 
must  invalidate  physico-chemical  laws. 

As  an  appendix  to  this  brief  discussion,  we 
wish  to  refer  to  the  very  strongly  expressed  con- 
clusions of  the  most  distinguished  physicist  of  the 
age — Lord  Kelvin.  He  was,  indeed,  no  biologist, 
but  the  opinions  held  by  one  of  his  intellectual 
eminence  claim  our  attention.  He  knew  how  far 
his  Physics  could  go. 

"The  only  contribution  of  dynamics  to  theo- 
retical biology  is  absolute  negation  of  automatic 
commencement  or  automatic  maintenance  of  life." 

"The  opening  of  a  bud,  the  growth  of  a  leaf, 
the  astonishing  development  of  beauty  in  a  flower, 
involve  physical  operations  which  completed 
chemical  science  would  leave  as  far  beyond  our 
comprehension  as  the  differences  between  lead 
and  iron,  between  water  and  carbonic  acid,  be- 
tween gravitation  and  magnetism,  are  at  present. 
A  tree  contains  more  mystery  of  creative  power 
than  the  sun,  from  which  all  its  mechanical  energy 
is  borrowed.  An  earth  without  life,  a  sun,  and 
countless  stars,  contain  less  wonder  than  that 
grain  of  mignonette." 

AN  ILLUSTRATION. — Let  us  select  some  instance 
of  animal  behaviour  and  look  at  it  from  the 
mechanist  and  vitalist  point  of  view.  We  take  a 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       149 

vivid  one — the  Migration  of  Eels,  which  has 
been  recently  discussed  in  this  connection  by 
Mr.  E.  S.  Russell  ("Vitalism,"  Rivista  di  Scienza, 
April,  1911).  It  is  a  useful  case,  because  the  ani- 
mal has  a  brain  of  a  very  low  order,  and  we  are 
not  warranted  in  using  in  regard  to  it  the  psycho- 
logical terms  which  are  indispensable  in  the  case 
of  the  more  intelligent  birds  and  mammals. 

The  eels  of  the  whole  of  northern  Europe  prob- 
ably begin  their  life  below  the  500-fathom  line  on 
the  verge  of  the  Deep  Sea  away  to  the  west  of 
Ireland  and  southward — on  the  verge  of  the  dark, 
cold,  calm,  silent,  plantless  world  of  the  abysses. 
The  young  eel  develops  and  starts  in  life,  and 
feeds  and  grows  far  below  the  surface,  but  the 
early  chapters  of  the  life-history  are  still  quite 
obscure,  and  do  not  at  present  concern  us.  It 
rises  to  the  upper  sunlit  waters  as  a  transparent, 
sideways  flattened,  knife-blade-like  larva,  about 
three  inches  in  length,  with  no  spot  of  colour 
except  in  its  eyes.  It  lives  for  many  months  in 
this  state — known  as  a  Leptocephalus — expending 
energy  in  gentle  swimming,  but  taking  no  food. 
It  subsists  on  itself,  and  becomes  shorter  and 
lighter,  and  cylindrical  instead  of  flat.  It  is 
gradually  transformed  into  a  glass-eel,  about  two 
and  a  half  inches  long,  like  a  knitting-needle  in 
girth.  It  moves  towards  the  shores.  After  about 
a  year  it  is  one  of  a  million  elvers  passing  up  one 


150     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

of  our  rivers — in  the  wonderful  eel-fare  which 
is  one  of  the  sights  of  Spring.  If  it  is  not  fortunate, 
it  may  take  much  more  than  a  year  to  reach  the 
feeding-ground — those  that  ascend  the  rivers  of 
the  eastern  Baltic  have  journeyed  over  three 
thousand  miles.  Eventually,  however,  a  large 
number  do  pass  up  the  streams,  and  there  is  a 
long  period  of  feeding  and  growing  in  the  slow- 
flowing  reaches  and  in  fish-stocked  ponds.  There 
is  never  any  breeding  in  fresh  water,  but  after 
some  years  restlessness  seizes  the  adults  as  it 
seized  the  larvae — a  restlessness  due  to  a  repro- 
ductive, not  a  nutritive  motive.  There  is  an 
excited  return  journey  to  the  sea — and  they  don 
wedding  garments  of  silver  as  they  go,  and  be- 
come large  of  eye.  They  appear  to  migrate 
hundreds  of  miles,  often  out  into  the  Atlantic  to 
the  verge  of  the  Deep  Sea,  where,  as  far  as  we 
know,  the  individual  life  ends  in  giving  rise  to 
new  lives.  In  no  case  is  there  any  return. 

We  ask  then  what  the  Machine  theory  of  Life 
can  make  of  a  story  like  this,  and  it  is  only  a  type 
of  many.  Let  us  keep  to  the  second  last  chapter, 
the  migration  to  the  spawning-grounds.  Like 
many  other  fishes,  the  eel  requires  specific  condi- 
tions of  depth,  salinity,  and  temperature.  The 
North  Sea  will  not  serve,  for  it  is  too  shallow; 
the  Norwegian  will  not  serve,  for  it  is  too  cold. 

What  can  the  physiology  that  is  only  applied 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       151 

physics  and  chemistry  tell  us?  It  can  tell  us  how 
the  energy  for  the  journey  is  obtained  from 
chemical  explosions  of  reserve  material  in  the 
muscles  of  the  eel's  tail.  It  can  tell  us  some  of 
the  steps  in  the  making  of  these  reserve  materials 
out  of  the  eel's  food.  It  can  tell  us  that  the 
muscles  are  kept  rhythmically  contracting  by 
nervous  stimuli,  and  so  on  for  a  whole  volume, 
and  yet  it  does  not  help  us  to  understand  the 
migration  to  the  spawning-grounds.  To  take 
items  in  the  process  and  reduce  them  (as  far  as 
possible)  to  physical  and  chemical  common  denom- 
inators, does  not  make  any  clearer  the  inter-con- 
nection of  all  these  items  into  the  single  act  of 
migration.  Apply  physico-chemical  methods  by 
all  means,  the  results  are  always  of  interest,  but 
the  results  are  not  useful  in  making  the  biological 
fact  of  migration  more  intelligible. 

Let  us  linger  over  the  illustration,  for  it  is 
very  instructive.  As  Russell  says:  "The  migra- 
tion is,  so  to  speak,  a  fact  of  a  higher  order  than 
any  physical  or  chemical  fact,  although  it  is  made 
up  of  an  indefinitely  large  number  of  physical  and 
chemical  facts.  To  explain  the  fact  one  must 
accept  it  as  a  whole,  not  seek  to  conquer  it  by 
dividing  it,  for  if  one  analyses  it  into  its  com- 
ponents one  inevitably  misses  the  bond  of  union. 
.  .  .  To  decompose  the  act  of  migration  into  an 
infinity  of  physico-chemical  processes  is  to  take 


152      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

an  infinity  of  little  partial  views  of  the  act,  but 
what  one  needs  for  an  explanation  of  the  fact  is 
a  comprehensive  view  which  will  unite  all  the 
relevant  features  of  it  into  one  picture.  To  the 
chemist  confronted  with  this  problem  there  is  no 
fact  of  migration  at  all,  there  is  only  an  intricate 
enravelment  of  chemical  reaction;  to  the  biolo- 
gist the  fact  of  migration  to  a  particular  region 
for  a  particular  purpose  is  cardinal,  and  the 
chemical  processes  involved  in  the  action  are 
negligible." 

But  if  the  mechanistic  account  of  the  eel's 
migration  fails,  is  the  vitalistic  one  any  better? 
Let  us  think  of  this  for  a  little.  The  aim  of  biol- 
ogy is  not  to  give  ultimate  explanations,  but  to 
render  biological  phenomena  intelligible;  and 
that  means  to  obtain  general  conceptions  as  to 
their  nature.  We  explain  a  thing  biologically 
when  we  relate  it  to  some  general  fact  or  formula 
of  living  things. 

Therefore  if  pressed  to  make  the  story  of  the 
eel  less  of  a  curiosity,  we  should  ask  to  be  allowed 
to  start  with  the  concept  of  an  organism  with 
certain  at  present  irreducible  qualities — one  of 
the  biggest  of  which  is  simply  that  it  is  an  histori- 
cal being.  It  is  determined  by  the  past — its  own 
past  and  the  past  of  its  race.  Its  inheritance  is 
a  treasure-store  of  the  ages.  Non-living  things 
have  no  history  in  the  biological  sense.  The 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       153 

hand  of  the  past  has  left  its  impress  on  them,  but 
the  living  hand  of  the  past  is  on  the  organism 
for  ever.  In  the  organism,  as  Bergson  says,  the 
past  is  prolonged  into  the  present.  Thus  we  pass 
on  to  a  new  level  of  explanation  or  interpretation 
— which  is  historical. 

And  whenever  we  mention  that  the  eel  is  one 
of  a  deep-sea  race  which  has  adventurously 
taken  to  colonizing  the  fresh  waters — just  as 
the  salmon  is  one  of  a  freshwater  race  which  has 
taken  to  exploiting  the  sea,  and  notice  further 
that  animals  in  general  return  to  their  birthplace 
to  breed — then  at  once  a  biological  light  begins 
to  be  shed  on  the  eel's  strange  story. 

THE  "SouL  AND  BODY"  PROBLEM. — No  one 
understands  how  living  creatures  began  to  be 
in  pre-Cambrian  ages  in  a  lifeless  world,  and 
no  one  understands  the  innermost  secret  of  their 
activity.  Similarly  at  a  higher  level:  No  one 
understands  how  thinking  creatures  began  to 
be,  nor  understands  what  the  innermost  secret 
of  thinking  is.  But  just  as  the  scientific  inquirer 
has  a  contribution  to  make  to  the  discussion  of 
the  origin  of  life  and  the  autonomy  of  the  organ- 
ism, so  he  has  something  to  say  in  regard  to  the 
perennial  question  of  the  relation  between  body 
and  mind,  a  question  which  is,  however,  essentially 
metaphysical. 

The  scientific  contribution  is  threefold: — 


154     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

(a)  In  the  first  place,  while  we  do  not  know  of 
any  transitions  between  the  not-living  and  the 
living,  we  have  a  long  inclined  plane  or  a  long 
series  of  steps  connecting  the  very  simple  reactions 
of  unicellular  creatures  with  the  intelligent  be- 
haviour of  dogs  and  horses,  and  even  with  the 
rational  conduct  of  man.  This  inclined  plane 
or  this  staircase  is  very  impressive,  and  must 
have  a  bearing  on  the  general  problem.  There 
is  a  fascination  in  what  may  be  called  the  begin- 
nings of  behaviour,  illustrated  by  some  of  the 
Infusorians.  Their  daily  life  seems  as  if  it  could 
be  summed  up  in  a  sentence.  They  have  only 
one  answer  to  every  question.  To  all  sorts  of 
stimuli  they  respond  in  the  same  way — by  back- 
ing off,  turning  slightly  on  one  side,  and  then 
going  ahead  again.  They  remind  us  of  a  steamer 
in  a  river  which  knocks  against  a  snag,  reverses 
engines,  alters  its  direction  a  little,  and  then 
steams  ahead.  This  is  surely  the  simplest  kind 
of  behaviour,  where  there  is  only  one  reaction. 

Slightly  higher  in  the  scale,  but  still  very  simple, 
is  the  behaviour  of  some  Protozoa  which  have  a 
number  of  reactions  or  responses  to  stimuli,  and 
seem  to  try  one  after  the  other  until,  it  may  be, 
one  succeeds.  We  do  not  know  how  much  lies 
concealed  in  that  process  of  "  seeming  to  try."  We 
know  that  it  is  different  from  the  experimenting 
of  a  scientist  who  tries  various  ways  of  solving 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       155 

a  problem;  we  know  that  ?t  is  different  from  the 
experimenting  of  a  burglar  who  tries  which  key 
in  a  bunch  will  open  a  particular  door;  we  know 
that  it  is  different  from  the  experimenting  of  a 
dog  trying  to  take  a  stick  with  a  hooked  handle 
through  the  close-set  upright  bars  of  a  fence;  we 
know  that  it  is  different  from  the  behaviour  of 
earthworms  trying  various  ways  of  transporting 
leaves  to  their  burrows;  but  is  it  not  the  beginning 
of  the  "trial  by  error"  method,  common  to  all 
these  instances? 

(6)  In  the  second  place,  the  "genetic  psycholo- 
gist" has  much  to  tell  us  of  the  individual  develop- 
ment of  behaviour,  of  the  gradual  emergence  of 
capacities  of  action — whether  instinctive  (involv- 
ing apparently  no  inference),  intelligent  (involv- 
ing apparently  perceptual  inference),  or  rational 
(involving  conceptual  inference).  Comparative 
child-study  in  the  wide  sense,  zoological  as  well 
as  anthropological,  has  surely  some  bearing  on 
the  general  question. 

(c)  In  the  third  place,  Science  has  much  to 
say  in  regard  to  the  actual  correlation  between 
the  static  and  the  dynamic  aspects,  between 
structure  and  function.  Complexity  of  brain 
structure  is  associated  with  very  intelligent 
behaviour;  increase  in  the  complexity  of  brain 
structure  from  year  to  year  in  the  individual  is 
associated  with  increased  capacity  of  intelligent 


156      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

behaviour;  certain  parts  of  the  brain  are  corre- 
lated with  certain  kinds  of  behaviour  such  as 
speech;  the  health  or  the  disease  of  the  brain 
is  correlated  withj  the  efficiency  of  behaviour. 
There  are  numerous  scientific  data  of  this  sort, 
and  they  have  nothing  particular  to  do  with 
the  metaphysical  theory  of  "psycho-physical 
parallelism." 

The  scientific  inquirer  tries  to  fight  shy  of 
the  metaphysical  problem  of  the  relation  of 
body  and  mind,  but,  of  course,  in  vain.  He 
will  hold  to  the  unity  of  the  organism  (thus 
making  a  metaphysical  assumption),  and  it  is 
the  behaviour  of  the  creature  that  he  will  partic- 
ularly study.  He  can  watch  the  dog  and  de- 
scribe its  behaviour;  he  can  make  experiments 
to  test  its  alertness,  its  memory,  its  power  of 
inference,  and  so  on.  In  the  case  of  birds,  whose 
eggs  can  be  hatched  in  the  laboratory,  he  dis- 
covers what  capacities  are  inborn  and  what  have 
to  be  acquired  by  learning.  He  can  do  all  this 
without  getting  into  difficulties  over  the  relations 
of  the  dog's  body  and  the  dog's  mind.  The  biolo- 
gist prefers  to  keep  to  the  dog.  In  this  practical 
monism  he  is  confirmed  by  the  philosophers  who 
make  it  clear  that  "body"  and  "soul"  are  equally 
abstractions.  "The  severance  of  the  original 
unity  of  experience  into  a  physical  and  a  psy- 
chical aspect  is  entirely  a  product  of  our  own 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       157 

abstraction-making  intellect.  'Body'  and  'soul' 
are  not  given  actualities  of  experience,  but  arti- 
ficial mental  constructions  of  our  own"  (Taylor, 
1903,  p.  314).  We  are  the  realities,  who  pigeon- 
hole for  purposes  of  study  our  "mind"  and  our 
"body." 

The  scientific  inquirer  may  try  to  remain  as 
a  student  of  "the  original  unity  of  his  experience," 
agnostically  confronting  one  of  the  great  mysteries 
of  the  world,  but  as  a  man  he  soon  strains  at  his 
self-made  tether.  And  he  is  likely  to  be  soon 
back  at  the  old  questions:  Which  is  primary — 
the  Brain  or  the  Mind?  Is  the  brain  the  instru- 
ment or  means,  rather  than  the  condition  or 
cause,  of  mental  development?  Do  the  bodily 
changes  form  an  unbroken  causal  series,  some- 
times associated  with  states  of  consciousness, 
which  are  effects,  but  never  causes?  Or  is  there 
a  curious  double  series  of  cerebral  events  and 
psychical  events,  running  "parallel"  (whatever 
that  may  mean)  but  not  causally  connected?  Or 
are  there  two  series  of  processes  going  on  which 
interact,  causally  influencing  one  another  at 
different  points,  sensation  being  a  mental  state 
which  has  bodily  processes  (in  the  nervous  stimu- 
lation) among  its  immediate  antecedents,  and  a 
motor  reaction  similarly  a  bodily  process  with 
mental  antecedents  (our  will)?  We  need  not  go 
farther:  the  scientific  inquirer  has  landed  in  the 


158      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

discussion  of  the  metaphysical  theories  of  "epi- 
phenomenalism,"  "parallelism  "  and  "  interaction." 
Apart  from  frankly  metaphysical  specula- 
tion, the  possibilities  are  (1)  to  remain  content 
with  an  agnostic  position,  or  (2)  to  push  on  the 
scientific  study  yet  farther. 

(1)  We  may  illustrate  the  first  possibility  by 
a  quotation  from  Huxley  (1863):    "I  must  ad- 
here to  what  seems  to  my  mind  a  simpler  form 
of  notation — i.  e.  to  suppose  that  all  phenomena 
have  the  same  substratum  (if  they  have  any), 
and  that  soul  and  body,  or  mental  and  physical 
phenomena,    are   merely   diverse   manifestations 
of  that  hypothetical  substratum.    In  this  way,  it 
seems  to  me,  I  obey  the  rule  which  works  so  well 
in  practice,  of  always  making  the  simplest  possi- 
ble suppositions."  .  .  .  "My  fundamental  axiom 
of    speculative    philosophy    is    that    materialism 
and  spiritualism  are  opposite  poles  of  the  same 
absurdity — the   absurdity  of   imagining  that  we 
know  anything  about  either  spirit  or  matter" 
(Huxley,  1863). 

(2)  We  may  illustrate  the  second  possibility 
by  a  quotation  from  Prof.  W.  MacDougall:  "We 
observe  a  constant  concurrence  or  concomitance 
of  events  of  the  two  orders — the  physical  and  the 
psychical;   and  this  constant  concomitance  leads 
even  the  most  unreflecting  man  to  assume  some 
orderly  relation  between  them.    The  fact  of  the 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       159 

relation  has  therefore  always  been  recognized 
since  men  first  began  to  reflect.  But  the  nature 
of  this  relation  that  so  clearly  obtains  between  the 
physical  and  psychical  worlds  remained  a  sub- 
ject of  speculation  only  until  long  after  the  scien- 
tific method  has  been  applied  with  success  to 
each  of  these  realms  independently.  In  fact,  it 
was  not  until  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury that  the  scientific  method  was  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  problem  of  the  nature  of  this 
relation;  and  it  was  this,  the  application  of  the 
scientific  method  to  this  problem,  that  led  to 
the  development  of  that  youngest  branch  of 
science  known  as  psycho-physics. 

"For  psycho-physics  may  be  broadly  defined 
as  the  application  of  the  scientific  method  to  the 
investigation  of  the  relation  between  the  psy- 
chical and  the  physical.  This  step  was  taken,  and 
this  new  branch  of  Science  was  founded,  by 
Gustav  Theodor  Fechner,  Professor  of  Physics 
at  Leipzig,  with  full  consciousness  of  the  nature 
and  importance  of  the  step.  In  his  celebrated 
work,  Elemente  der  Psycho-physik,  published  in 
1860,  Fechner  says:  'By  psycho-physics  is  to  be 
understood  an  exact  study  of  the  functional 
relations,  or  relations  of  dependence,  between 
body  and  soul,  or,  in  more  general  terms,  between 
the  bodily  and  the  mental,  the  physical  and  the 
psychical  worlds."  (See  MacDougall:  "Psycho- 


160     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

physical  Method,"  in  Lectures  on  the  Method  of 
Science,  Oxford,  1906,  p.  114.) 

A  QUESTION. — In  regard  to  "the  soul  and 
body  problem"  and  also  in  regard  to  "the  secret 
of  the  organism,"  some  reader  may  be  inclined 
to  press  the  following  question:  This  discussion 
of  "the  unity  of  the  organism "  and  " the  autonomy 
of  the  organism  "  is  all  very  well,  but  do  you  mean 
that  there  is  in  the  living  creature  more  than 
matter  and  energy,  or  not?  To  this  and  similar 
questions  the  scientific  answer  must  be  that  the 
question  is  not  rightly  put.  We  do  not  know 
what  matter  really  is,  nor  what  all  the  energies 
of  matter  may  be.  What  we  do  know  is,  that 
physico-chemical  formulae  do  not  make  the 
living  creature  intelligible,  and  that  we  have 
no  warrant  for  asserting  that  the  physical  con- 
cepts of  "matter"  and  "energy,"  abstracted  off 
for  special  scientific  purposes,  exhaust  the  reality 
of  Nature. 

We  have  known  of  a  school  where  the  distinc- 
tive feature  was  solidarity,  loyalty,  and  esprit 
de  corps.  No  one  ever  saw  this  esprit  de  corps, 
but  it  was,  in  a  way,  the  most  real  thing  about 
the  school.  So,  though  we  may  not  be  able  to 
understand  it,  the  hierarchy  of  Nature  is  full  of 
illustrations,  on  an  ever  grander  scale  as  we 
ascend  the  series,  of  the  fact  that  the  whole  may 
be  greater  than  the  sum  of  its  parts.  Thus  we 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       161 

feel  sure  that  organisms  reveal  a  deeper  aspect 
of  reality  than  crystals  do,  and  that  in  this  sense 
there  is  more  in  the  plant  than  in  the  crystal, 
more  in  the  animal  than  in  the  plant,  more  in 
the  bird  than  in  the  worm,  more  in  man  than  in 
them  all. 

Let  us  try  to  state  our  personal  position  in  a 
few  words.  With  our  biological  prepossessions 
it  seems  clear  to  us  that  students  of  science  would 
breathe  more  freely  if  they  could  rid  themselves 
of  the  influence  of  the  hypothesis,  so  character- 
istic of  Kant,  that  there  is  but  one  science  of 
Nature  and  that  the  category  of  mechanism  is 
the  only  one  we  need.  It  seems  to  us  that  there 
are  several  sciences  of  Nature,  and  that  other 
than  mechanical  categories  are  required  in  two 
of  these. 

(1)  There  is  the  physical  order  of  Nature — 
the  inorganic  world — where  mechanism  reigns 
supreme.  (2)  There  is  the  vital  order  of  Nature — 
the  world  of  organisms — where  mechanism  proves 
insufficient.  (3)  There  is  the  psychical  order  of 
Nature — the  world  of  mind — where  mechanism 
is  irrelevant.  Thus  there  are  three  fundamen- 
tal sciences — Physics,  Biology,  and  Psychology — 
each  with  characteristic  questions,  categories  and 
formulae. 

It  is  evident,  indeed,  that  the  physical  order 
overlaps  the  vital,  for  the  life  of  the  organism 


162     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

implies  a  succession  of  chemical  and  physical 
processes.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  the  life  of  the 
organism  also  implies  a  co-ordination,  a  purposive- 
ness,  an  individuality,  a  creative  agency,  a  power 
of  trading  with  time,  a  history — in  all  of  which 
it  transcends  mechanism.  Similarly,  both  the 
vital  and  the  physical  overlap  the  psychical  with- 
out, as  we  understand  it,  affecting  the  autonomy 
of  psychology. 

Looking  at  the  question  historically,  we  recog- 
nize that  there  was  for  millions  of  years,  in  the 
development  of  the  earth,  only  a  physical  order 
as  far  as  met  the  eye.  That  is  to  say,  everything 
(short  of  the  origin  of  life)  that  happened  during 
these  millions  of  years  was  capable  of  descrip- 
tion in  physico-chemical  terms.  These  are  so 
"  true  to  Nature"  that  just  as  we  can  predict  the 
return  of  a  comet,  so  in  many  cases  we  can  safely 
speak  of  great  events  that  occurred  before  there 
was  any  life  whatever  upon  the  earth.  It  is  quite 
another  matter,  however,  to  say  that  physico- 
chemical  categories  exhausted  the  reality  of  Nature 
in  these  pre-organic  days.  Indeed,  if  life  and 
mind  and  man  have  evolved  from  the  reality 
which  was  physically  describable  as  a  nebula,  we 
may  safely  say  that  the  physical  description  is 
certainly  not  exhaustive. 

In  the  same  way,  there  were  long  ages,  in  the 
evolution  of  organisms,  during  which  (in  addi- 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY       163 

tion  to  the  physical)  there  was  only  a  vital  order. 
No  brains  worthy  of  the  name  had  yet  been 
differentiated,  and  everything  might  have  been 
described  in  biological  terms,  just  as  we  may  de- 
scribe the  ongoings  of  an  amoeba  or  of  a  fresh- 
water hydra.  It  is  quite  another  matter,  however, 
to  say  that  biological  categories  exhausted  the 
reality  of  animate  Nature  in  these  pre-mental 
days.  Indeed,  if  intelligent  behaviour  and  hu* 
man  reason  evolved  from  the  reality  which  was 
biologically  describable  as  a  number  of  simple 
organisms,  we  may  safely  say  that  the  biological 
description  is  certainly  not  exhaustive.  The 
same  holds  good  in  regard  to  the  development  of 
the  individual  human  being. 

In  questions  like  this,  which  are  perhaps  be- 
yond, the  limits  of  human  intelligence,  diagrams 
and  metaphors  are  apt  to  do  more  harm  than 
good,  but  we  might  compare  the  order  of  Nature 
which  we  study  to  a  great  fabric  passing  from  the 
loom  of  time  with  a  pattern  slowly  changing  as 
the  ages  pass.  It  is  woven  of  threads  of  different 
colours  which  it  is  the  business  of  the  several 
sciences  to  follow,  unravelling  the  web.  We 
can  well  imagine  that  there  are  areas  of  fabric 
in  which  certain  threads  seem  to  be  absent,  where, 
indeed,  their  hidden  presence  may  be  ignored, 
except  in  reference  to  further  stretches  of  the  web. 
In  the  area  that  we  call  the  physical  order  we 


164      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

can  afford  to  act  as  if  the  only  threads  were 
mechanical,  but  in  truth  it  may  be  otherwise. 
In  the  area  which  we  call  the  biological  order 
the  mechanical  threads  are  continued,  but  they 
are  no  longer  dominant.  In  the  area  which  we 
call  psychical  the  organic  threads  are  continued, 
but  others  form  the  pattern.  As  we  pass  from 
inorganic  to  organic,  from  organic  to  psychical, 
the  mechanical  warp  becomes  as  it  were  less 
important,  and  new  aspects  of  Reality  find  freer 
expression.  But  the  metaphor  is  hopeless  in  its 
suggestion  of  threads  that  are  passively  twisted 
and  interlaced.  We  have  to  think  of  living 
threads,  like  those  of  some  of  the  simplest 
Protists  which  spin  a  changeful  web.  We  have 
to  think  of  living  threads  that  share  in  working 
out  the  pattern  of  the  web. 

SUMMARY. — The  aim  of  Science  is  the  descrip- 
tion of  facts,  the  aim  of  Philosophy  their  interpre- 
tation. There  is  much  need  for  critical  Metaphysics 
to  function  as  a  sublime  Logic,  testing  the  complete- 
ness and  consistency  of  scientific  descriptions, 
whether  of  things  as  they  are  or  of  the  way  in  which 
they  have  come  to  be.  On  the  other  hand,  meta- 
physics should  not  reach  forward  to  its  constructive 
system  without  taking  account  of  the  raw  material 
which  the  sciences  furnish.  The  scientific  account 
of  things  is  self-limited  by  the  nature  of  its  descrip- 
tions: Only  in  mechanics  can  we  say  "  The  Cause 


SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY      165 

is  equal  to  the  Effect,"  ifce  terms  of  scientific  de- 
scription require  themselves  to  be  explained;)  the 
beginnings  from  which  Science  starts  contain  much 
that  is  "given"  or  taken  for  granted;  the  terms  of 
scientific  descriptions  are  "conceptual  formulae." 
Before  problems  such  as  the  origin  of  living  creatures 
upon  the  earth,  the  secret  of  the  organism,  the  rela- 
tion of  soul  and  body,  Science  and  Philosophy 
must  meet.  Science  offers  certain  contributions  to 
the  discussion  and  must  then  remain  qua  Science 
agnostic.  To  most  minds  it  seems  imperative  to 
go  on  to  metaphysical  theory,  and  it  is  better  to  do 
this  frankly  and  deliberately  than  unconsciously 
or  at  random. 


CHAPTER  VI 

SCIENCE   AND   ART 

"For  double  the  vision  my  eyes  do  see, 
And  a  double  vision  is  always  with  me: 
With  my  inward  eye  'tis  an  old  man  grey, 
With  my  outward  a  thistle  across  my  way." 

— BLAKE. 

Inter-relations  of  Science' and  Art — ^Esthetics — Man's  Emo- 
tional Relation  to  Nature— Fundamental  Impressions  of 
Nature — Nature  more  than  a  Mirror — Raw  Materials 
of  Poetry — Opposition  between  Science  and  Feeling — 
Summary. 

INTER-RELATIONS  OF  SCIENCE  AND  ART. — 
The  connection  of  the  Sciences  with  the  arts  and 
crafts  is  well  known,  but  it  is  generally  supposed 
that  Science  and  Art  (both  with  very  large  capi- 
tals) are  as  the  poles  asunder.  And  this  in  spite 
of  the  "Science  and  Art"  Department  an$  its 
examinations,  so  familiar  thirty  years  ago! 

Of  a  truth,  however,  the  ideal  which  these 
expressed,  perhaps  not  always  wisely  or  well, 
was  a  sound  one,  for  Science  and  Art  have  close 
relations.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  a  scientific 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  167 

jjitudy  of  aesthetics,  a  psychology  of^Art — a  sub- 
ject ^o~HfficIirrtEat  we  cannot  do  more  than  refer 
to  it  here.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  certain,  though 
rarely  realized,  that  Science  has  precious  gifts 
to  place  in  the  hands  of  Art  that  she  may  fashion 
tfiem  magically  into  beautyT  Science  has  enor- 
mous^ treasure-caves  full  of  what  we  cannot  but 
describe  as  the  raw  materials  of  poetry.  And  just 
as  the  famous  painter  told  his  questioner  that  he 
mixed  his  colours  "with  brains,"  so  it  is  beyond 
doubt  that  Science,  with  its  subtle  revelations 
of  the  order  of  Nature,  may  ^njianee  ^yen  the 
artist's  visions.  In  the  third  place,  in  spite  of 
what  we  have  just  said,  there  is  a  very  interesting 
opposition  between  the  two  moods.  They  may 
help  one  another,  but^  when  one  isjnjthe  saddle 
it  must  keep  the  other  at  a  spear's  length. 

"There  is  anether'pdssible  relation  between 
Science  and  Art  which  well  deserves  to  be  thought 
over.  Is  it  not  the  case  that  in  its  higher  reaches 
Science  often  becomes  artistic?  Thus  Mr.  Bran- 
ford  writes — 

"Routine-skill,  scientific  skill,  and  artistic 
skill  form  an  ascending  series  of  human  power 
and  activity.  For  true  art,  in  whatever  occupa- 
tion it  may  be  developed,  is  the  final  and  highest 
expression  of  our  whole  character,  powers,  and 
personality — whether  the  artist  be  a  handicrafts- 
man or  a  headcraftsman,  or  both.  Above  and 


168     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

beyond  their  scientific  skill,  all  great  scientists 
possess  much  of  this  artistic  skill,  the  very  por- 
tion, indeed,  of  their  experience  and  experimenting 
which  they  themselves  never  fully  understand, 
though  the  source  of  their  greatest  discoveries, 
and  which,  essentially  incommunicable,  necessarily 
dies  with  the  possessor"  (Branford,  1904,  p.  12). 
^ESTHETICS. — As  we  have  indicated,  it  is  be- 
yond our  power  in  this  short  Introduction  to  do 
more  than  refer  to  the  interesting  study  called 
aesthetics.  It  inquires  into  the  characteristics 
of  that  familiar  experience  which  we  call  enjoy- 
ing Nature  or  Art,  and  of  the  rarer  experience  of 
productive  artists.  It  asks  such  questions  as 
the  following:  How  does  the  sense  of  beauty 
differ  from  other  states?  The  pleasure  that  we 
get  from  music  or  from  the  silence  that  is  in  the 
starry  sky,  from  the  restless  sea  eternally  new  or 
from  the  sleep  that  is  among  the  lonely  hills; 
how  does  it  differ  from  other  pleasures?  What 
is  the  meaning  of  those  sensations  that  follow 
changes  in  breathing,  circulation,  and  the  like, 
when  we  enjoy  beautiful  scenery  and  music? 
What  gives  aesthetic  pleasure  its  peculiar  quality 
of  "relative  permanency,"  a  thing  of  beauty 
being  "a  joy  for  ever"  though  we  never  see  it 
again?  What  can  be  known  of  the  "artistic 
instinct"  or  of  the  artist's  creativeness?  How 
is  the  art-instinct  linked  to  the  play-instinct? 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  169 

What  have  been  the  factors  in  the  evolution  of 
Art? 

It  goes  without  saying  that  aesthetics  has  its 
philosophical  as  well  as  its  scientific  side,  and  we 
may  perhaps  best  illustrate  the  former  in  a  brief 
space  by  quoting  the  views  of  a  leading  sesthe- 
tician  on  the  relations  of  the  True  and  the  Good 
and  the  Beautiful.  Dr.  Henry  Rutgers  Marshall 
suggests  that  "the  Beautiful  is  the  Real  as  dis- 
covered in  the  world  of  impression;  the  relatively 
permanent  pleasure  which  gives  us  the  sense  of 
beauty  being  the  most  stable  characteristic  of 
those  parts  of  the  field  of  impression  which  inter- 
est us."  He  proposes  the  following  scheme — 


THE  REAL 


or 


THE  TRUE 

(in  the  broad 

sense  of  the 

term). 


The  Real  of  Impression — 
The  Beautiful. 

The  Real  of  Expression— 
The  Good 

The  Real  in  Realms  exclu- 
sive of  a  and  /3 — The  True 
(in  the  narrower  sense  of 
the  term). 


MAN'S  EMOTIONAL  RELATION  TO  NATURE. — 
It  is  part  of  "man's  chief  end"  not  only  to  know 
Nature — which  is  Science,  but  to  enjoy  her  for 
ever.  We  are  men  of  feeling,  and  Nature  speaks 
to  our  heart,  though  we  are  not  fond,  unless  we 


170     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

are  poets,  of  saying  much  about  it.  But  we  listen 
with  gladness,  with  awe,  sometimes,  perhaps, 
with  fear,  surely  always  with  wonder.  The 
grandeur  of  the  star-strewn  sky,  the  mystery  of 
the  mountains,  the  sea  eternally  new,  the  way  of 
the  eagle  in  the  air,  the  meanest  flower  that  blows 
— somewhere,  sometime,  somehow,  every  one  con- 
fesses with  emotion,  "This  is  too  wonderful  for 
me."  When  we  consider  the  abundance  of 
power  in  the  world,  the  immensities,  the  intri- 
cacy and  vitality  of  everything,  the  wealth  of 
sentient  life,  the  order  that  persists  amid  inces- 
sant change,  the  vibrating  web  of  inter-relations, 
the  thousand  and  one  fitnesses,  the  evolutionary 
progress  that  is  like  "the  unity  of  an  onward 
advancing  melody,"  and  the  beauty  that  is 
through  and  through,  we  are  convinced  that 
our  wonder  is  reasonable. 

As  we  come  to  know  Nature  better,  we  find 
that  everything  is  equally  wonderful  if  we  know 
enough  about  it,  for,  as  Meredith  says,  with  his 
wonted  insight:  "You  of  any  well  that  springs, 
may  unfold  the  heaven  of  things."  As  Whitman 
says — 

"A  leaf  of  grass  is  no  less  than  the  journey- 
work  of  the  stars, 

And  the  ant  is  equally  perfect,  and  the  grain 
of  sand,  and  the  egg  of  the  wren, 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  171 

And  the  tree-toad  is   a  masterpiece  for  the 

highest, 
And  the  running  blackberry  would  adorn  the 

parlours  of  heaven, 
And  the  narrowest  hinge  on  my  hand  puts  to 

scorn  all  machinery, 
And  the  cow  crunching  with  depressed  head 

surpasses  any  statue, 
And   a  mouse   is  miracle  enough  to  stagger 

sextillions  of  infidels." 

As  we  begin  to  feel  at  home  in  Nature,  our 
wonder  grows  into  delight  and  what  may  almost 
be  called  affection.  This  is  true  of  those  who 
have  what  Meredith  called  "love  exceeding  a 
simple  love  of  the  things  that  glide  in  grasses  and 
rubble  of  woody  wreck."  In  many  ways  we  are 
drawn  close  to  Nature  by  emotional  cords  which 
we  sever  at  our  peril. 

Historical  inquiry  shows  that  in  the  culture  of 
the  mood  which  dominates  the  man  of  feeling 
there  have  been  two  great  schools — human  life 
itself  and  Nature.  It  is  evident  that  without 
schooling  in  the  human  drama,  with  its  joys  and 
sorrows,  achievements  and  failures,  Man  would 
have  made  much  less  of  Nature  emotionally. 
One  may  go  farther  and  say  that  without  age- 
long schooling  in  the  Humanities,  Man  would 
have  made  much  less  of  Nature.  On  the  other 


172      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

hand,  from  the  first  till  to-day  schooling  in  Nature 
has  deepened  humane  feeling,  as  many  of  the 
poets  have  confessed;  and  our  position  is  that 
schooling  in  Nature  has  been  and  remains  an 
essential  part  of  the  discipline  of  the  developing 
human  spirit.  Think  of  the  past  for  a  moment. 

Man  was  cradled  in  Nature  and  brought  up 
in  close  contact  with  Nature,  and  the  influences 
of  Nature  have  supplied  the  raw  materials  of, 
perhaps,  half  the  poetry  and  art  in  the  world. 
From  language  and  literature,  from  religion  and 
rites,  and  from  what  may  be  seen  still  among 
simple  peoples,  it  seems  certain  that  the  influences 
of  Nature  took  a  very  firm  grip  of  Man  in  the 
making.  Very  largely,  perhaps,  in  a  half-con- 
scious way,  just  as  in  our  own  childhood,  but 
none  the  less  firmly.  The  poet  tells  us  of  the 
child  who  went  forth  every  day,  and  what  the 
child  saw  became  part  of  him  for  a  day,  or  for 
years,  or  for  stretching  cycles  of  years;  and  what 
is  true  of  the  individual  has  been  equally  true  of 
the  race. 

FUNDAMENTAL  IMPRESSIONS  OF  NATURE. — It 
is  unlikely  that  the  impressions  borne  in  on 
our  early  ancestors  were  essentially  different 
from  those  that  come  to  us,  though  the  particular 
form  and  colour  of  the  impression  must  vary 
from  age  to  age.  What,  then,  are  the  essential 
impressions?  When  we  reflect  on  this  in  the 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  173 

silence  of  a  starry  night,  or  in  the  bewilderment 
of  a  storm,  or  in  the  detachment  of  mid-ocean, 
or  with  the  exalted  feeling  that  rewards  a  long 
climb,  we  recognize  various  elements  which  com- 
bine in  the  complex  feeling  of  Wonder. 

First,  there  comes  to  us  a  sense  of  the  world- 
power,  its  dynamic — a  sense  of  the  powers  that 
make  our  whole  solar  system  travel  in  space 
toward  an  unknown  goal,  that  keep  our  earth 
together  and  whirling  round  the  sun,  that  sway 
the  tides  and  rule  the  winds,  that  mould  the  dew- 
drop  and  build  the  crystal,  that  clothe  the  lily 
and  give  us  energy  for  every  movement  and 
every  thought — in  short,  that  keep  the  whole 
system  of  things  agoing.  Looking  at  radium- 
containing  rock  and  the  like  with  modern  spec- 
tacles, we  get  a  glimpse  of  the  powers — like 
charmed  genii — that  may  be  imprisoned  in  the 
apparently  inert  dust.  Even  more  vividly  to 
some  of  us  there  comes  a  sense  of  the  power 
of  life — so  abundant,  so  insurgent,  so  creative. 
"The  narrowest  hinge  on  my  hand  puts  to  scorn 
all  machinery";  a  fire-fly  is  a  much  more  eco- 
nomical light-producer  than  an  arc-lamp;  a  fish 
is  a  far  more  efficient  engine  than  those  which 
move  a  steamship;  and  an  invisible  pinch  of 
microbes  could  kill  all  of  us  in  a  few  hours. 

Secondly,  there  comes  to  us  a  feeling  of  the 
immensities.  It  was  a  red-letter  day  in  our  child- 


174      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

hood  when  we  first  climbed  to  the  summit  and 
saw  over  the  hills  and  far  away — strath  beyond 
strath,  and  then  the  sea;  and  the  simple,  open 
mind  has  always  been  impressed  with  the  "big- 
ness" of  Nature,  with  the  apparently  boundless 
and  unfathomable  sea,  by  the  apparently  un- 
ending plains,  by  the  mountains  whose  tops  are 
lost  in  the  clouds,  by  the  expanse  of  the  heavens. 
And  even  when  we  take  the  sternest  modern 
science  for  our  pilot — precise  and  cautious  to  a 
degree — we  find  that  we  are  sailing  in  a  practi- 
cally infinite  ocean.  For  leagues  and  leagues 
beyond  there  is  always  more  sea. 

Thirdly,  there  comes  a  sense  of  pervading  order. 
Probably  this  began  at  the  very  dawn  of  human 
reason — when  man  first  discovered  the  year  with 
its  magnificent  object-lesson  of  regularly  recur- 
rent sequences,  and  it  has  been  growing  ever  since. 
Doubtless  the  early  forms  that  this  perception 
of  order  took  referred  to  somewhat  obvious  uni- 
formities; but  is  there  any  essential  difference 
between  realizing  the  orderliness  of  moons  and 
tides,  of  seasons  and  migrations,  and  discovering 
Bode's  law  of  the  relations  of  the  planets,  or  Men- 
deleeff's  "Periodic  Law"  of  the  relations  of  the 
atomic  weights  of  the  chemical  elements? 

Fourthly,  there  comes  to  us  a  feeling  of  the 
universal  flux,  in  spite  of  which  order  persists. 
As  Heraclitus  said,  iravra  pet,  all  things  are  in 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  175 

flux.  "The  rain  falls;  the  springs  are  fed;  the 
streams  are  filled  and  flow  to  the  sea;  the  mist 
rises  from  the  deep  and  the  clouds  are  formed, 
which  break  again  on  the  mountain  side.  The 
plant  captures  air,  water,  and  salts,  and,  with 
the  sun's  aid,  builds  them  up  by  vital  alchemy 
into  the  bread  of  life,  incorporating  this  into 
itself.  The  animal  eats  the  plant;  and  a  new  in- 
carnation begins.  All  flesh  is  grass.  The  animal 
becomes  part  of  another  animal,  and  the  reincar- 
nation continues."  Finally,  if  we  can  use  such 
a  word,  the  silver  cord  of  the  bundle  of  life  is 
loosed,  and  earth  returns  to  earth.  The  microbes 
of  decay  break  down  the  dead,  and  there  is  a 
return  to  air  and  water  and  salts.  All  things 
flow.  It  may  be  that  the  old  naturalists  had  not 
such  a  vivid  conception  of  the  circulation  of  mat- 
ter as  we  have  to-day,  but  the  essential  idea  is 
certainly  ancient. 

Perhaps  we  have  said  enough  to  illustrate  this 
part  of  our  simple  argument  (which  we  have 
developed  further  in  The  Bible  of  Nature,  1908) 
that  there  are  certain  inevitable  and  fundamental 
impressions  borne  in  on  man  by  Nature  which 
have  meant  much  to  man  throughout  the  ages, 
which  are  strengthened,  not  weakened,  by  modern 
science.  They  have  not  changed  in  their  essen- 
tial character  since  ancient  days,  but  they  have 
become  deeper  and  more  subtle — the  impressions 


176      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

of  power,  of  immensity,  of  order,  and  of  flux. 
These  are  probably  the  most  widespread  and 
fundamental  impressions,  but  every  open-eyed 
observer  to-day  has  doubtless  others  that  have 
meant  much  to  him  in  the  way  both  of  stimulus 
and  of  mental  furniture. 

There  is  the  impression  of  wealth,  exuberance, 
and  manifoldness.  Star  differs  from  star  in  glory 
and  their  numbers  are  beyond  reckoning;  every 
mountain,  every  stream,  has  its  individuality; 
there  are  over  eighty  different  kinds  of  chemical 
elements;  the  number  of  minerals  is  legion;  there 
are  four  hundred  and  forty-two  species  of  birds 
in  the  list  for  the  small  islands  of  Great  Britain 
and  Ireland;  and  there  is  many  a  class  of  animals 
that  has  far  more  different  species  than  we  see  of 
stars  on  a  clear  night. 

An  allied  impression  is  that  of  intricacy.  As 
President  Jordan  says,  "The  simplest  organism 
we  know  is  far  more  complex  than  the  consti- 
tution of  the  United  States."  The  body  of  an 
ant  is  many  times  more  intricate — visibly  intri- 
cate— than  a  steam-engine;  its  brain,  as  Darwin 
said,  is  perhaps  the  most  marvellous  speck  of 
matter  in  the  universe.  The  physicists  tell  us 
that  the  behaviour  of  hydrogen  gas  makes  it 
necessary  to  suppose  that  an  atom  of  it  must 
have  a  constitution  as  complex  as  a  constellation, 
with  about  eight  hundred  separate  corpuscles. 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  177 

Another  impression  of  a  basal  sort  is  that  the 
world  is  a  network  of  inter-relations.  Nature 
is  a  vast  system  of  linkages.  There  is  a  corre- 
lation of  organisms  in  Nature  comparable  to  the 
correlation  of  organs  in  our  body.  There  is  a 
web  of  life.  Cats  are  connected  with  the  clover 
crop,  rats  with  plague,  earthworms  with  our  food- 
supply,  the  spring  sunshine  with  mackerel.  The 
face  of  Nature  is  like  the  surface  of  a  gently 
flowing  stream,  where  hundreds  of  dimpling 
circles  touch  and  influence  one  another  in  an 
intricate  complexity  of  action  and  reaction  beyond 
the  ken  of  the  wisest. 

These  impressions  of  manifoldness,  of  intri- 
cacy, of  inter-relatedness  are  relatively  modern, 
as  is  also  a  sense  of  the  crowning  wonder  of  the 
world,  that  the  succession  of  events  has  been  in 
the  main  progressive.  What  we  more  or  less 
dimly  discern  in  the  long  past  is  not  like  the 
succession  of  patterns  in  a  kaleidoscope;  it  is 
rather  like  the  sequence  of  stages  in  the  individual 
development  of  a  plant  or  an  animal — stages 
whose  import  is  disclosed  more  and  more  fully 
as  the  development  goes  on.  It  is  not  a  phan- 
tasmagoric procession  that  the  history  of  animate 
Nature  revels:  it  is  a  drama.  As  Lotze  said, 
there  is  "the  unity  of  an  onward-advancing 
melody." 

NATURE    MORE    THAN    A    MIRROR. — We    are 


178      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

seeking  to  suggest  that  there  are  a  number  of 
strong  impressions  borne  in  on  man  by  Nature 
which  have  formed  and  should  continue  to  form 
the  raw  materials  of  poetry  and  the  impulses  of 
other  forms  of  art.  But  before  continuing  this 
simple  argument,  we  must  pause  for  a  moment 
to  protest  against  the  not  uncommon  heresy  that 
Nature  is  man's  creation!  We  are  told  that 
Nature  has  no  suggestions  of  her  own,  that  what 
we  see  in  Nature  depends  on  the  arts  that  have 
already  influenced  us,  that  Wordsworth  found 
in  stones  the  sermons  which  he  had  himself  hidden 
there. 

But  this  seems  to  us  an  extreme  subjectivism. 
It  is  indeed  the  function  of  Art  to  read  into 
Nature,  but  the  impressions  which  we  have  been 
discussing  have  scientific  validity.  And  if  it  be 
urged  that  it  is  difficult  to  free  even  science  from 
anthropomorphism,  as  has  been  illustrated  in  the 
volume  on  EVOLUTION  in  this  Library,  we  should 
answer  that  this  applies  rather  to  theoretical 
interpretations  than  to  the  great  data  of  expe- 
rience. When  a  scientific  impression  is  really 
sound,  it  is  not  something  that  may  be  accepted 
or  rejected  as  one  will,  it  does  not  depend  on 
individual  outlook,  it  stands  the  test  of  veri- 
fiability  by  all  normal  intelligences. 

RAW  MATERIALS  OF  POETRY. — Our  argument, 
then,  is  this,  that  the  fundamental  impressions 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  179 

of  Nature,  some  of  which  we  have  indicated, 
have  scientific  validity.  They  are  borne  in  on 
man  and  not  artistically  projected  from  him. 
They  are  cumulative  syntheses  of  facts  of  expe- 
rience, and  some  of -them,  though  varying  in  form 
and  colour  from  age  to  age,  are  very  ancient. 
They  have  never"ceased  to  supply  the  raw  mate- 
rials of  poetry.  Demonstrably,  indeed,  a  large 
part  of  the  world's  poetry  from  Homer  to  Tenny- 
son, from  the  Nature-Psalms  to  Meredith,  has 
been  saturated  with  their  influence. 

In  ancient  days  there  were  those  who  knew 
Nature  well  and  loved  her  well,  who  felt  that 
while  they  could  discover  certain  secrets  that 
cleared  their  outlook  and  made  for  practical 
advantage,  yet  there  remained  much  that  was 
elusive  and  mysterious.  So  they  did  what  Man 
has  always  done,  they  used  art  to  express  their 
feeling  of  Nature's  powers  and  immensities,  of 
the  pervading  order  amid  a  restless  flux.  For 
instance,  they  fashioned  what  we  sometimes 
call  Fairy  Tales,  many  of  which  are  artistic 
expressions  of  very  sound  science.  Many  of  them, 
for  instance,  reveal  a  very  penetrating  insight 
into  the  gist  of  natural  phenomena,  especially 
of  the  march  of  the  seasons.  Let  us  take  one 
instance. 

"There  was  Dornroschen,  the  Sleeping  Beauty 
— (our  fair  Earth),  wounded  by  a  spindle  (the 


180     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

frost  of  winter),  who  slumbered,  as  the  seeds  do, 
but  did  not  die.  One  after  another  strove,  so 
the  story  runs,  to  win  a  way  through  the  barriers 
which  encircled  the  place  of  her  sleeping,  but  at 
length  the  Prince  and  Master  came,  to  whom  all 
was  easy — the  Sunshine  of  the  first  spring  day; 
and  as  he  kissed  the  Sleeping  Beauty,  all  the 
buglers  blew,  both  high  and  low,  the  cawing  rooks 
on  the  trees,  and  the  croaking  frogs  by  the  pond, 
each  according  to  his  strength  and  skill.  All 
through  the  palace  there  was  reawakening:  of 
the  men-at-arms,  whether  bears  or  hedgehogs; 
of  the  night  watchmen,  known  to  us  as  bats;  even 
of  the  carpet  sweepers,  like  dormice  and  hamsters 
— all  were  reawakened.  The  messengers  went 
forth  with  the  news,  the  dragon-flies  like  living 
flashes  of  light,  the  bustling  humble-bees  refresh- 
ing themselves  at  the  willow  catkins  by  the  way, 
the  moths  flying  softly  by  night." 

If  these  are  not  good  interpretations,  there  are 
other  exegeses  to  choose  from.  (See  Frazer's 
Golden  Bough  and  our  Biology  of  the  Seasons, 
1911.) 

Fine  as  are  the  old  Nature  myths  and  fairy 
tales,  it  seems  obvious  that  each  age  should  make 
its  own,  if  it  can.  And  the  possibility  depends  on 
two  things.  First,  on  keeping  close  to  the  funda- 
mentals, sojourning  with  Nature,  for  it  is  touching 
and  handling  that  counts;  listening  to  sounds, 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  181 

not  to  echoes  of  sounds;  experiencing  day  and 
night,  summer  and  winter,  cold  and  heat,  not 
simply  reading  about  them.  "Nur  was  dufuhlst, 
das  ist  dein  Eigenthum."  "Only  what  you  feel 
is  your  very  own."  And  second,  on  enriching 
the  mind  with  the  results  of  science,  with  its 
fresh  facts,  its  new  outlooks,  its  revised  laws. 
Only  thus  may  there  arise  a  new  Nature-poesy — • 
a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  such  as  each  gener- 
ation has  a  right  to  make  for  itself. 

What  an  emotional  asset,  for  instance,  in  the 
facts  regarding  the  Earth's  relation  to  the  Sun 
which  is  its  "mother-country"!  "All  energy  is 
a  transformation  of  the  sun,  the  logs  which  feed 
our  hearths  are  warehoused  from  the  sun,  the 
locomotive  moves  by  an  effect  due  to  that  power 
of  the  sun  which  has  been  lying  dormant  for  ages 
in  the  subterreanean  beds  of  coal,  the  horse  draws 
its  strength  from  crops  which  are  also  produced 
by  the  sun,"  and  so  the  familiar  story  runs  to 
water-mills  and  windmills  and  how  much  more — 
all  owing  their  power  to  the  sun. 

The  emotional  assets  furnished  by  astronomy 
are  well  known.  They  are  so  great  that  we  can 
well  understand  the  poet's  conviction  that  "the 
undevout  astronomer  is  mad."  We  have  referred 
to  the  immensities  of  Nature,  but  better  than  big 
words  is  the  picture  in  the  volume  on  ASTRONOMY 
in  this  Library.  "Imagine  a  model  in  which  the 


182      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

sun  is  represented  by  a  grain  of  sand  one-hun- 
dredth of  an  inch  in  diameter,  and  the  earth 
by  a  quite  invisible  speck  one  inch  away.  Upon 
this  scale  the  nearest  star  will  be  another  grain 
of  sand  some  four  miles  away."  .  .  .  The  sun 
would  take  at  his  present  speed  in  space  some 
seventy  thousand  years  to  reach  his  nearest 
neighbour.  .  .  .  "Despite  the  richness  of  the 
sky,  the  emptiness  of  space  is  its  most  striking 
characteristic. ' ' 

The  great  concepts  of  physics — such  as  the 
law  of  gravitation,  the  luminiferous  ether,  and 
the  conservation  of  energy — are  assets  in  the  life 
of  feeling.  "In  accordance  with  the  conception 
of  the  conservation  of  energy  there  is  no  real 
cessation  of  energy  motion,  there  is  only  an 
alteration  hi  its  mode;  thus  the  sum  total  remains 
for  ever  the  same,  one  mode  changing  to  another 
without  any  energy  ceasing  or  being  lost  in  the 
transformation."  And  speaking  of  this,  Prof. 
Gotch  continues:  "Such  an  imaginative  flight 
is  far  beyond  all  sense  experience.  To  the  thought 
of  a  scientific  man  the  universe,  with  all  its  suns 
and  worlds,  is  throughout  one  seething  welter  of 
modes  of  motion,  playing  in  space,  playing  in  the 
ether,  playing  in  all  existing  matter,  playing  in 
all  living  things,  playing,  therefore,  in  ourselves. 
Now  locked  together  in  more  intimate  embrace, 
potential  energy,  now  unlocked  and  streaming  as 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  183 

kinetic  energy  through  space,  continually  alter- 
nating between  these  two  settings,  this  eternal 
motion  never  ceases,  is  never  dissipated,  and  is 
never  recreated;  it  simply  exists.  The  concep- 
tion thrills  the  imagination  like  a  poem"  (Gotch, 
1906,  p.  55). 

One  of  the  great  changes  in  modern  intellectual 
development  has  been  the  transition  from  a 
static  to  a  dynamic  way  of  looking  at  things. 
What  began  in  astronomy  spread  to  geology  and 
thence  to  biology,  and  now  every  science  owns  to 
the  change.  The  subject-matter  is  considered 
in  its  becoming,  in  its  present  activity,  and  as  in 
process  of  evolution.  Everything  is  seen  "in  the 
light  of  evolution."  And  this  familiar  intellec- 
tual transition  has  given  a  thrill  to  art. 

Again,  it  is  well  known  that  modern  progress 
in  chemistry  and  physics  has  given  us  a  much 
more  vital  conception  of  what  has  been  labelled 
or  libelled  as  "dead  matter."  To  speak  of  inert 
matter,  at  any  rate,  is  an  anachronism.  We 
believe  that  every  one  who  feels  something  of  the 
witchery  and  mystery  of  precious  stones  will 
admit  that  his  vision  is  illumined  and  intensified 
by  what  modern  science  has  to  tell  of  the  internal 
activity  or  "life"  of  jewels. 

And,  again,  it  is  characteristic  of  at  least  a 
large  school  of  modern  biologists  that  they  assert 
the  autonomy  of  then*  science  and  the  transcen- 


184      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

dence  of  life  over  mechanism.  We  cannot  give  a 
mechanical  interpretation  of  an  animate  system 
that  in  some  mysterious  way  is  more  than  the 
sum  of  its  parts,  that  has  unified  effective  be- 
haviour from  the  start,  that  has  experience  and 
profits  by  it,  that  has  a  history  behind  it  and 
never  ceases  itself  to  trade  with  time.  Thus  the 
Neo-Vitalists  have  made  a  home  for  the  Dryad, 
which  some  of  them  think  they  have  even  demon- 
strated. With  a  suitable  constituency  of  serious 
students,  the  severer  the  biological  discipline  is 
the  more  vital  do  things  become.  The  old  wood- 
man who  planted  and  tended  his  tree  often  had 
an  almost  personal  or  parental  interest  in  his 
charge;  the  modern  forester  may  lose  this  with 
the  change  in  the  world's  pace,  but  there  comes 
to  him  instead,  in  proportion  as  he  knows  his 
business,  a  vision  of  the  tree  translucent,  with  its 
intricate  architecture  and  its  intense  life.  "The 
Dryad,  living  and  breathing,  moving  and  sensi- 
tive, is  again  within  the  tree." 

Let  us  collect  a  few  Natural  History  illustra- 
tions. Many  voyagers  across  the  Atlantic  have 
watched  the  sun  set  in  the  water,  lingering  for  a 
minute  or  two  like  a  ball  of  fire  balanced  on  the 
tight  string  of  the  horizon,  and  have  waited  after- 
wards till  it  was  quite  dark  except  for  the  stars 
and  the  "phosphoresence" — a  multitude  of  glow- 
ing suns  above  and  a  greater  multitude  of  gleam- 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  185 

ing  animalcules  below!  There  is  a  cascade  of 
sparks  at  the  prow,  a  stream  of  sparks  all  along 
the  water  level,  a  welter  of  sparks  in  the  wake,  and 
even  where  the  waves  break  there  is  fire.  So  it 
goes  on  for  miles  and  hours — the  luminescence 
of  the  rapid  burning  away  of  pinhead-like  crea- 
tures, so  numerous  that  a  tubful  contains  more 
of  them  than  there  are  people  in  London  and  New 
York  together.  This  is  just  one  of  a  thousand 
vways  of  feeling  the  abundance  of  life. 

Many  have  enjoyed  one  of  the  great  pleasures 
in  life,  that  of  crossing  an  Alpine  pass  of  moderate 
height,  where  we  get  near  the  lasting  snows  and 
are  among  the  bare,  inhospitable  rocks.  There 
is  much  to  enjoy — the  air,  the  near  peaks  and 
glaciers,  and  the  distant  view.  But  many  must 
have  received  another  impression — of  the  insur- 
gent nature  of  life.  Not  only  are  there  many 
beautiful  flowers  coming  up  at  the  thinned  edge 
of  the  snow  on  most  inhospitable  ground,  but 
there  is  a  rich  insect  life  and  quite  a  number  of 
birds,  besides  hundreds  of  things  unseen.  Very 
conspicuous  are  the  large,  white-bellied  Alpine 
swifts,  perhaps  the  most  rapid  of  all  birds  in 
their  flight,  continually  swirling  about  in  the  cold 
air,  with  a  note  of  victory  in  their  cry,  the  very 
emblems  of  insurgent  life.  Shy  marmots  whistle 
among  the  rocks  and  strange  flocks  of  white  moths 
float  up  in  the  mist,  rising  like  the  souls  of  animals 


186     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

that  have  died  far  below.  Everything  is  unpropi- 
tious,  yet  life  is  abundant;  we  feel  what  Berg- 
son  calls  the  elan,  the  spring,  the  impetus  that 
is  characteristic  of  livingness.  We  feel  the  in- 
surgent, indomitable,  self-assertive  character  of  lie- 
ing  organisms, — something  foreign  to  the  purely 
physical. 

On  the  links,  perhaps  nearer  home  for  most  of 
us,  the  whole  surface  of  the  grass  is  sometimes 
covered  for  acres  with  threads  of  gossamer.  If 
we  bend  down  we  see  the  earth  quivering  as  far 
as  the  eye  can  reach.  In  some  of  the  hollows 
still  unsunned,  we  see  what  R.  L.  Stevenson  meant 
by  "the  fairy  wheels  and  threads  of  cobwebs 
dew-bediamonded."  When  the  sun  catches  the 
quivering  threads,  the  silvery  robe  changes  to 
one  of  gold.  Who  can  see  this  without  thinking 
of  Goethe's  words  about  Nature:  "She  moves 
and  works  above  and  beneath,  working  and  weav- 
ing, an  endless  motion,  birth  and  death,  an  infi- 
nite ocean,  a  changeful  web,  a  glowing  life."  The 
beauty  of  it  is  increased,  not  decreased,  if  we 
happen  to  know  a  little  about  the  natural  history 
of  gossamer,  for  most  of  these  threads  are  the 
residues  of  the  ballooning  activity  of  thousands 
of  small  spiders.  The  sight  as  we  see  it  is  a  good 
emblem  of  the  intricacy  of  the  web  of  life. 

Three  examples  are  as  good  as  three  hundred, 
for  what  we  mean  is  simple  enough.  Whether 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  187 

we  watch  the  literal  myriads  of  starlings  circling 
over  one  of  their  favourite  resorts,  resembling 
from  a  mile  off  the  thick  smoke  writhing  over  a 
crater,  or  a  swarm  of  locusts  darkening  the  sky 
with  a  thick  curtain  of  wings,  we  feel  the  abun- 
dance of  life.  When  we  watch  the  flying  fishes 
rising  in  hundreds  before  the  prow  of  the  steamer, 
like  grasshoppers  before  us  as  we  walk  through  a 
rich  meadow;  or  the  storm-petrels  flying  over  the 
waves  with  dangling  feet,  never  touching  land 
except  to  nest;  or  the  salmon  leaping  the  falls; 
or  the  elvers  on  then*  journey  upstream;  we  feel 
the  insurgence  of  life.  When  we  gaze  at  the  cut 
stem  of  a  huge  American  Sequoia,  whose  annual 
rings  show  us  that  it  was  a  sapling  a  few  years 
after  the  fall  of  Rome,  we  are  in  the  presence  of 
another  form  of  the  Will  to  Live.  And  what 
shall  we  say  of  the  emotional  value  of  looking 
backward  over  the  history  of  organisms,  to  see 
life  slowly  creeping  upwards  through  the  ages, 
adapting  itself  to  every  niche  of  opportunity, 
expressing  itself  with  increasing  freedom  and 
fulness,  with  more  and  more  emergence  of  Mind? 
Wherever  we  turn  in  our  Natural  History  we 
are  brought  up  against  the  abundance,  the  insur- 
gence, the  effectiveness,  the  intricacy,  and  the 
mystery  of  life — in  all  of  which,  in  addition  to 
the  great  gift  of  unsolved  problems,  there  is 
unstinted  food  for  fancy,  an  unending  supply  of 


188     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  raw  materials  of  poetry,  and  a  continual 
reinvigoration  of  those  primary  and  fundamental 
Nature  impressions  without  which  we  cannot 
really  make  our  heritage  our  own.  And  when 
what  Science  gives  us  is  transfigured  by  Art, 
then — if  we  may  wrest  a  little  the  words  of  an 
artistic  genius:  "The  very  aspect  of  the  world 
will  change  to  our  startled  eyes.  .  .  .  Dragons 
will  wander  about  in  waste  places,  and  the  phoe- 
nix will  soar  from  her  nest  of  fire  into  the  air. 
We  shall  lay  our  hands  upon  the  basilisk  and  see 
the  jewel  in  the  toad's  head.  Champing  his 
gilded  oats,  the  hippogriff  will  stand  in  our  stalls, 
and  over  our  heads  will  float  the  blue-bird  singing 
of  beautiful  and  impossible  things,  of  things  that 
are  lovely  and  that  never  happen,  of  things  that 
are  not  and  that  should  be." 

OPPOSITION  BETWEEN  SCIENCE  AND  FEELING. 
— We  have  been  trying  to  suggest,  indirectly 
rather  than  formally,  that  Science  and  Art  are 
complementary.  Science  has  a  great  deal  to  offer 
to  Art  in  the  way  of  raw  materials, — and  these 
of  a  kind  that  Art  is  ennobled  in  working  with 
them.  On  the  other  hand,  Science  is  cold  with- 
out Art.  But  while  this  is  so,  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  the  artistic  and  the  scientific  mood  are 
in  some  measure  opposed.  There  is  an  antithesis 
— which  easily  becomes  an  antipathy — between 
them.  The  reason  for  this  is  obvious:  Science 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  189 

aims  at  being  unemotional  and  impersonal;  Art 
is  intrinsically  emotional  and  personal. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  pleasure  which  Man  has 
in  the  contemplation  and  study  of  Nature,  but 
it  must  be  granted  that  the  scientific  mood  often 
intrudes  on  our  delight,  elbowing  us  away  from 
the  emotional  window.  Yet  the  end  is  always 
that  the  window  is  widened.  Darwin  once  ex- 
pressed the  delight  he  had  when  on  a  rare  occa- 
sion he  surrendered  himself  under  the  trees  to 
the  child's  pleasure  of  just  watching  the  birds 
and  insects  and  all  the  rest,  without  vexing  him- 
self for  once  over  the  problems  of  origin.  But  how 
he  has  widened  the  emotional  window  for  man- 
kind, for  all  who  feel  the  grandeur  of  the  evolu- 
tion-idea! 

Keats  could  not  forgive  Newton  for  robbing 
mankind  of  the  wonder  of  the  rainbow, — but 
when  minor  mysteries  disappear,  greater  mysteries 
stand  confessed.  Science  never  destroys  wonder, 
but  only  shifts  it,  higher  and  deeper.  When  the 
half-Gods  go,  the  Gods  arrive,  to  the  aesthetic 
as  well  as  to  the  religious  mood.  For  it  is  our 
experience  that  there  is  always  something  finer, 
higher,  grander  than  we  saw  at  first.  Should 
we  not  get  back  oftener  to  the  emotional  reali- 
zation of  height  above  height,  which  is  expressed 
in  Emerson's  picture  of  the  little  child  looking 
up  through  the  maple  branches? — 


190     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

"Over  his  head  were  the  maple  buds, 
And  over  the  tree  was  the  moon, 
And  over  the  moon  were  the  starry  studs 
That  drop  from  the  angels'  shoon." 

Our  general  position  is  a  very  simple  one.  We 
are  enthusiastic  believers  in  the  value  of  Science 
in  furnishing  descriptive  formulae  which  facili- 
tate both  our  intellectual  and  our  practical  grasp 
of  Nature.  But  we  do  not  feel  that  the  general- 
izations of  Science  are  by  themselves  satisfying 
to  us.  Rightly  or  wrongly  we  share  the  ordinary 
human  longing  for  explanations,  and  we  are  not 
affected  by  being  told  that  it  is  an  unhealthy 
appetite.  We  believe  that  nature-poetry  and 
religious  feeling  are  alike  complementary  to 
Science.  Both  aim  at  getting  beyond  Science  by 
other  methods,  intuitive  and  instinctive  rather 
than  intellectual — and  we  do  not  think  that  they 
fail. 

SUMMARY. — There  are  three  relations  between 
Science  and  Art:  (1)  there  is  a  scientific  study  of 
(esthetics;  (2)  Science  has  enormous  stores  of  what 
may  be  called  the  raw  materials  of  Art;  and  (3) 
there  is  an  interesting  psychological  opposition 
between  the  two  moods.  ^Esthetics  is  a  psychological 
science  which  inquires  into  the  characteristics  of 
that  familiar  experience  which  we  catt  enjoying 
Nature  or  Art,  and  of  the  rarer  experience  of  pro- 


SCIENCE  AND  ART  191 

ductive  artists.  Man's  emotional  relation  to  Nature 
is  primal  and  fundamental.  The  fundamental  and 
ancient  impressions  are  of  the  world-power,  of  the 
immensities,  of  the  pervading  order,  and  of  the 
universal  flux.  To  these  modern  science  has  added 
impressions  of  manifoldness,  intricacy,  inter-related- 
ness,  and  evolution.  Nature  is  more  than  a  mirror 
of  our  moods;  the  fundamental  impressions  are 
impersonal.  While  they  have  scientific  validity, 
they  are  hardly  less  important  in  supplying  the 
raw  materials  of  poetry.  Yet  there  is  undoubted 
opposition  between  the  scientific  and  the  artistic 
mood;  when  either  is  in  the  saddle  it  must  keep  the 
other  at  a  spear's  length. 


CHAPTER  VII 

SCIENCE  AND   RELIGION 

"Have  a  glimpse  of  incomprehensibles;  and 
thoughts  of  things  which  thoughts  but  tenderly 
touch.  Lodge  immaterials  in  thy  head;  ascend 
into  invisibles;  fill  thy  spirit  with  spirituals, 
with  the  mysteries  of  faith,  the  magnalities  of 
religion,  and  thy  life  with  the  honour  of  God." 
— Sm  THOMAS  BROWNE. 

The  Aim  of  Science  and  the  Attitude  of  Religion — From 
Practical  Problems  to  Religion — From  Emotional  Strain 
to  Religion — From  the  Riddles  of  the  Universe  to  Religion 
— The  Voices  of  Nature — The  Conflict  between  Science 
and  Religion — Herbert  Spencer's  Position — Contributions 
of  Science  to  Religion — Summary. 

MUCH  has  been  written  on  the  relations  be- 
tween Science  and  Religion,  and  the  history  of 
the  so-called  conflict  between  them  is  long.  What 
we  propose  to  do  in  this  short  chapter  is  to  explain 
a  certain  point  of  view  which  appears  to  us  to 
make  for  clearness  of  thought.  Our  view  is  that 
Science  and  Religion  are  incommensurables,  that 
there  is  no  true  antithesis  between  them.  Let 
us  explain. 

192 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          193 

THE  AIM  OF  SCIENCE  AND  THE  ATTITUDE  OF 
RELIGION. — As  we  have  already  seen,  the  aim 
of  Science  is  to  discover  the  general  laws  of  what 
goes  on,  to  formulate  the  sequences  in  the  simplest 
possible  terms, — terms  which  are  either  the  im- 
mediate data  of  experience  or  verifiably  derived 
from  these.  It  has  a  definite  aim,  which  is  to 
describe  things  as  they  are  and  as  they  have  been, 
and  to  discover  the  laws  of  all  processes;  it  has 
definite  methods  of  observation  and  experiment; 
it  has  its  own  "universe  of  discourse"  which  does 
not  include  transcendental  concepts  and  offers  no 
ultimate  explanations. 

We  cannot  define  Religion,  but  we  use  the 
word  to  include  all  recognition — whether  practi- 
cal, emotional,  or  intellectual — of  an  independent 
spiritual  reality.  It  is  evidently  something  alto- 
gether different  from  Science;  it  is  beyond  the 
high  tide-mark  of  everyday  emotion  and  it  is  oil 
the  far  side  of  intellectual  curiosity. 

JR^digip^impliea  a  Tealiaatien^of^a  higher  order 
of  things  than  those  of  sense-experience,  arioTit 
has  the  usual  three  sides  of  feeling,  intellectual 
conviction,  and  activity.  "Religion,"  said  Prof. 
James,  "has  meant  many  things  in  human  history. 
...  I  use  the  word  in  the  supernaturalist  sense, 
as  declaring  that  the  so-called  order  of  nature, 
which  constitutes  this  world's  experience,  is  only 
one  portion  of  the  total  universe,  and  that  there 


194     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

stretches  beyond  this  visible  world  an  unseen 
world  of  which  we  now  know  nothing  positive, 
but  in  its  relation  to  which  the  true  significance 
of  our  present  mundane  life  consists.  A  man's 
religious  faith  (whatever  more  special  items  of 
doctrine  it  may  involve)  means  for  me  essentially 
his  faith  in  the  existence  of  an  unseen  order  of 
some  kind  in  which  the  riddles  of  the  natural 
order  may  be  found  explained"  (The  Will  to 
Believe,  1903,  p.  51).  Prof.  A.  E.  Taylor  writes: 
"Specifically  religious  emotion,  as  we  can  detect 
it  both  in  our  own  experience,  if  we  happen  to 
possess  the  religious  'temperament,'  and  in  the 
devotional  literature  of  the  world,  appears  to 
be  essentially  a  mingled  condition  of  exaltation 
and  humility  arising  from  an  immediate  sense  of 
communion  and  co-operation  with  a  power  greater 
and  better  than  ourselves,  in  which  our  ideas  of 
good  find  completer  realization  than  they  every 
obtain  in  the  empirically  known  time-order" 
(Elements  of  Metaphysics,  1903,  p.  390). 

Taking  these  descriptions  as  typical  we  see 
that  Religion  includes  what  a  man  does,  and  feels, 
and  thinks  when  he  has  reached  the  limit  of  his 
ordinary  practical,  emotional,  and  intellectual 
tether.  It  transcends  the  ordinary  and  implies  a 
certain  exaltation  of  feeling — apart  from  which 
its  activity,  its  art,  its  ideas  are  quite  undis- 
cussable.  Its  language  is  not  that  of  the  street, 


SCIENCE    AND    RELIGION          195 

nor  of  the  studio,  nor  of  the  laboratory.  And 
just  as  it  is  impossible  to  speak  two  languages 
at  once,  so  it  is  false  antithesis  to  contrast 
scientific  and  religious  interpretations, — they  are 
incommensurable. 

We  wish  in  a  simple  historical  way  to  consider 
some  of  the  pathways  that  have  led  and  still 
lead  men  to  religious  experience.  In  this  way  we 
may  be  able  to  discern  in  part  how  it  is  that  the 
growth  of  Science  influences  Religion,  although 
they  are  incommensurables.  We  would  remind 
ourselves  and  our  readers  that  the  whole  subject 
should  be  treated  with  reverence  and  sympathy, 
for  it  is  hardly  possible  to  exaggerate  the  august 
role  of  religion  in  human  life.  Whatever  be  our 
views,  we  must  recognize  that  just  as  the  great 
mathematicians  and  metaphysicians  represent 
the  aristocracy  of  human  intellect,  so  the  great 
religious  geniuses  represent  the  aristocracy  of 
human  emotion.  And  in  this  connection  it  is 
probably  useful  to  bear  in  mind  that  in  all  dis- 
cussions about  religious  ideas  or  feelings  we  should 
ourselves  be  in  an  exalted  mood,  and  yet  "with 
a  compelling  sense  of  our  own  limitations,"  and 
of  the  vastness  and  mysteriousness  of  the  world. 

FROM  PRACTICAL  PROBLEMS  TO  RELIGION. — 
Man  has  three  main  relations  with  Nature  and 
with  his  fellow-men, — practical,  emotional,  and 
intellectual — and  along  each  of  these  three  lines 


196     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

there  is  a  pathway  to  religion.  For  untold  ages 
Man  has  been  dependent  upon  Nature,  and  she 
has  had  many  hard  lessons  to  teach  him  as  to 
food  and  safety,  as  to  health  and  conduct.  Na- 
ture has  trained  her  "insurgent  son"  so  that  he 
has  entered  more  and  more  fully  into  his  kingdom. 
This  has  happened  partly  because  Man  listened 
to  good  purpose  to  the  voices  of  Nature  and  to 
voices  which  do  not  belong  to  Nature  at  all,  but 
partly  because  Man,  having  in  him  the  central 
secret  of  life  which  we  call  variability,  has  changed 
progressively  from  generation  to  generation  as  he 
has  been  subjected  to  Nature's  sifting  in  the  Strug- 
gle for  Existence.  These  three  words,  which  tell 
half  of  pain  and  half  of  happiness,  mean  for  Man 
that  he  fought  with  wild  beasts  till  he  worsted 
them  or  tamed  them,  that  at  great  cost  he  sifted 
out  the  wholesome  from  the  poisonous  herbs, 
that,  cowering  and  crouching  for  ages,  he  watched 
the  elemental  forces  of  Nature  till  he  wrested  from 
them  their  secrets,  that  he  has  been  to  his  fellows, 
too,  since  the  beginning,  the  strangest  mixture 
of  self-assertiveness  and  sympathy,  and  that  he 
has  kept  up  an  age-long  endeavour  after  well- 
being — always  at  his  best  when  rowing  hard 
against  the  stream. 

Nature's  has  been  a  stern  school;  she  has  let 
no  slackness  go  unpunished;  and  the  voice  that 
we  hear  echoing  down  the  ages  is  Struggle,  En- 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          197 

deavour,  Struggle.  Sparing  only  those  who  will 
accept  the  life  of  ease — which  we  call  parasitism 
— Nature  has  always  tended  to  eliminate  the 
sluggish,  the  unbalanced,  the  uncontrolled,  the 
unwholesome.  Wild  animals  in  Nature  have  para- 
sites, but  the  occurrence  of  organic  disease  amongst 
them  is  rare,  and  its  elimination  is  rapid.  Nature 
is  all  for  health.  And  for  those  who  get  anything 
of  a  fair  start,  health  is  a  curiously  sensitive  index 
of  morals, — and  not  for  the  lower  reaches  only. 

Civilization  has  indeed  mitigated  the  severity 
of  Nature's  Spartan  methods,  and  has  thrown  off 
the  yoke  of  Natural  Selection,  but  it  has  not 
put  an  end  to  struggle  nor  the  need  for  it.  We 
interfere  with  Nature's  winnowing  at  every  turn, 
and  we  are  awakening  to  realize  the  penalty  we 
have  to  pay  for  having  abandoned  Nature's 
policy  without  adopting  a  really  humaner  one  of 
our  own.  We  are  face  to  face  with  ugly  and  terri- 
ble social  arrears — the  results  of  our  easy-going 
regime  in  which  superiority  does  not  necessarily 
profit  by  the  rewards  of  superiority,  in  which 
inferiority  is  shielded  from  the  evils  it  entails.' 
Since  we  cannot  return  to  Nature's  stern  regime, 
which  Plato  approved,  it  behoves  us  more  strenu- 
ously to  substitute  for  Natural  Selection  a  similar 
method  on  a  higher  turn  of  the  spiral — namely,  a 
stringent  policy  of  Rational  and  Social  Selection 
which  will  not  be  afraid  to  be  firm  in  the  present 


198     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

so  that  we  may  be  less  cruel  to  the  future.  We 
cannot  return  to  Nature's  tactics,  but  we  must 
adhere  to  her  strategy  or  perish  miserably. 

Huxley  insisted  with  his  usual  incisiveness 
that  our  only  chance  of  ethical  progress  was  to 
combat  the  cosmic  process,  for  what  he  saw  in 
Nature  was  a  vast  gladiatorial  show,  a  ubiquitous 
Ishmaelitism,  every  living  creature  for  itself  and 
.extinction  taking  the  hindmost.  But  he  did  not 
Adequately  appreciate  the  fact  that  throughout 
the  struggle  for  existence  in  Nature,  there  is  often 
a  pathway  to  survival  and  success  through  in- 
creased co-operation,  kindliness,  and  mutual  aid, 
as  well  as  through  increased  competition  and 
self-assertion.  And  it  is  this  line  of  combination 
and  mutual  aid  that  man  must  especially  follow; 
it  is  the  one  he  has  followed  in  making  some  of  his 
greatest  advances. 

Moreover,  is  it  not  generally  admitted  that 
the  moral  ideal  is  one  of  self-realization  by  work- 
ing for  our  social  group,  by  being  good  citizens 
in  fact, — a  self-realization  which  implies  our 
private  subordination  to  the  general  weal?  And 
is  not  this  the  deeper  aspect  of  Nature's  strategy, 
that  the  individual  living  creature  realizes  itself 
in  its  inter-relations,  and  has  to  submit  to  being 
lost  that  the  welfare  of  the  whole  may  be  served? 
There  is  much  indeed  to  be  said  for  the  thesis: 
that  the  ideals  of  ethical  progress — through  love 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          199 

and  sociality,  co-operation  and  sacrifice,  may  be 
interpreted  not  as  mere  Utopias  contradicted  by 
experience,  but  as  the  highest  expressions  of  the 
central  evolutionary  process  of  the  natural  world.  ' 

To  return  to  our  general  theme,  we  must  ad- 
mit that  for  long  ages  Man  learned  in  a  hard 
school,  and  that  the  severity  of  the  lessons  often 
brought  him  to  his  knees.  It  seems  to  be  an 
historical  fact  that  many  a  man  has  become 
religious  when  he  reached  the  limit  of  his  practical 
endeavour  and  was  baffled.  When  our  naive  an- 
cestors had  done  all  they  could  and  felt  themselves 
powerless  and  were  afraid,  they  offered  gifts, 
or  sacrifices,  or  prayers.  It  is  surely  true  that 
the  fear  of  Nature  has  sometimes  led  men  to  the 
fear  of  the  Lord. 

But  as  Man  has  become  more  and  more  master 
of  Nature,  he  has  ceased  to  offer  sacrifice  or  to* 
pray  for  rain;  and  this  pathway  to  religion  is 
not  so  well  trodden  now  as  it  was  in  ancient  days. 
Let  us  think  vividly  of  our  ancestors — living  in 
caves,  fearful  of  wild  beasts,  often  dying  of 
hunger  or  of  poison,  without  wood- work  or  metals, 
without  fire,  without  foresight,  and  quite  unable 
to  look  to  the  general  weal.  What  a  contrast 
between  this  picture  and  our  life  to-day.  For 
now-a-days,  the  serpent  that  bites  Man's  heel  is 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  microscopic;  year  by  year 
Man  increases  his  mastery  over  the  physical 


200     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

forces;  he  coins  wealth  out  of  the  thin  air;  he 
annihilates  distance  with  his  deep  devices;  he 
makes  the  ether  carry  his  messages;  he  is  extend- 
ing his  kingdom  to  the  heavens;  and  he  is  making 
experiments  on  the  control  of  life.  And  there  is 
nothing  to  lead  us  to  believe  that  Man  has  more 
than  begun  to  enter  into  his  kingdom. 
•  The  increasing  mastery  of  Nature  and  the  as- 
sociated enormous  increase  in  human  comfort 
and  prosperity  must  be  traced  to  the  application 
of  science,  and  perhaps  this  is  one  of  the  indirect 
ways  in  which  scientific  development  hinders 
rather  than  helps  the  growth  of  religious  feeling.. 
This  is  a  very  simple  consideration,  but  surely 
one  of  importance,  that  the  scientific  strengthen- 
ing of  Man's  foothold  in  the  struggle  for  existence 
tends,  for  rougher  minds  at  least  (and  "we  are 
not  all  the  finest  Parian"),  to  close  one  of  the 
pathways  to  religion.  In  saying  this  we  are  not 
unaware  that  the  practical  tasks  ahead  are  stern 
enough.  For  man  has  still  a  very  imperfect 
mastery  of  himself  and  our  civilization  is  full 
of  misery.  In  face  of  the  often  terrible  failures 
of  human  endeavour,  the  element  of  tragedy 
in  things  as  they  are,  and  the  chill  that  follows 
the  vision  of  our  fair  earth  and  all  that  it  contains 
becoming  cold  and  cindery  as  the  moon,  many  a 
one  of  great  repute  in  the  world  of  science — we 
think  of  men  like  Clerk  Maxwell  or  Kelvin — seeks 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          201 

to  steady  himself  in  the  thought  of  some  Abiding 
Reality,  saying  as  of  yore,  "I  will  lift  up  mine 
eyes  unto  the  hills." 

FROM  EMOTIONAL  STRAIN  TO  RELIGION. — We 
have  already  spoken  of  Nature's  appeal  to  the 
human  emotions, — which  seems  to  us  to  be  one 
of  the  big  formative  influences  in  human  evo- 
lution. Admitting  that  the  emotional  note  varies 
with  our  science,  from  age  to  age,  and  from  race 
to  race,  we  venture  to  say  that  a  love  of  Nature 
is  an  essential  human  relation — lost  for  a  while 
in  ultra-urban  conditions — which  makes  all  the 
world  kin,  and  is  one  of  the  saving  graces  of  life. 

Our  present  point  is  that  the  sense  of  wonder, 
for  instance,  in  the  presence  of  Nature,  which 
lies  near  the  roots  of  science  and  of  philosophy, 
is  and  will  continue  to  be  one  of  the  footstools 
of  religion.  Nature  is  at  times  so  overpowering 
in  its  beauty  or  in  its  awesomeness,  that  we  feel! 
it  too  big  for  our  humanity.  Thus  at  the  limit 
of  his  emotional  tension  Man  has  often  become 
a  worshipper.  Some  indeed — poets  and  painters 
and  musicians — find  relief  in  their  art,  and  in  this 
some  maintain  that  there  is  an  essentially  reli- 
gious quality.  What  seems  to  us  quite  clear  when 
we  consider  such  magnificent  pieces  of  poetic 
literature  as  the  Nature-Psalms  is  this,  that  men 
surcharged  with  emotion  in  the  contemplation 
of  Nature  may  keep  their  sanity  by  finding  a 


202      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

religious  expression.  To  the  author  of  Psalm 
xxix,  for  instance,  the  thunder-storm  that  passed 
over  the  country  was  a  revelation  of  God.  We 
miss  the  whole  point  if  we  suppose  that  the  poet 
meant  to  say  that  the  thunder  was  caused  by 
God  speaking.  "He  was  not  in  the  passionless 
and  prosaic  state  of  seeking  an  explanation  of  the 
thunder;  he  was  expressing  religious  experience 
of  the  most  exalted  kind."  He  was  far  beyond 
the  confines  of  science,  he  has  been  greatly  thrilled 
by  the  storm,  and  in  his  exalted  state  of  feeling 
his  emotion  became  religious,  he  heard  God's 
voice. 

1  Similarly  in  Man's  emotional  relations  with 
his  fellows  there  are  heights  of  joy  and  depths  of 
sorrow  from  which  the  transition  to  religious 
feeling  is  natural,  to  certain  temperaments  at 
least. 

Can  it  be  said  that  the  development  of  science 
has  in  any  way  affected  the  frequency  with  which 
the  emotional  pathway  to  religion  is  followed? 
It  may  be  that  in  the  rapid  extension  of  scien- 
tific thinking  and  scientific  knowledge  some  have 
lost  the  sense  of  wonder  that  is  due  to  relative 
ignorance  without  gaining  that  which  comes 
from  knowledge.  It  may  also  be  that  the  exten- 
sion of  psychological  analysis  to  all  manner  of 
emotions  has  induced  a  curious  self -consciousness 
that  inhibits  spontaneity  of  feeling. 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION         203 

TVe  think,  however,  that  if  there  is  a  decadence 
of  delight  and  reverence  in  the  presence  of  Nature, 
it  must  be  due  rather  to  the  conditions  of  modern 
urban  civilization  than  to  the  spread  of  Science. 
Many  men,  some  by  choice,  and  some  under 
coercion,  have  got  quite  out  of  touch  with  Nature, 
to  their  own  great  loss.  For  Man  was  cradled 
and  brought  up  in  Nature,  and  if,  because  of 
civilization,  he  cannot  any  longer  continue  to  live 
in  the  old  home,  it  is  a  condition  of  emotional 
sanity  that  he  should  periodically  return  there, 
as  the  migratory  birds  do.  It  is  this  old-estab- 
lished association,  we  think,  that  gives  deep 
import  to  that  "uprush  of  feeling  from  below 
the  ordinary  level  of  consciousness"  which  we 
experience  when  we  allow  the  beauty  of  Nature 
to  play  upon  us.  In  Emerson's  transcendental 
language,  "Nature  is  the  organ  through  which 
the  universal  spirit  speaks  to  the  individual." 

FROM  THE  RIDDLES  OF  THE  UNIVERSE  TO  RE- 
LIGION.— Having  referred  to  Man's  practical  and 
emotional  relations  with  Nature  and  with  his 
fellows,  we  come  to  the  third  relation,  which  is 
intellectual  or  scientific.  The  first  voice  of  Na 
ture  is  Endeavour,  the  second  is  Enjoy,  the  third 
is  Enquire.  For  hundreds  of  thousands  of  years, 
Nature  has  been  setting  Man  problems,  leading 
him  gradually  from  the  practical  to  the  more 
abstract.  On  the  one  side  there  is  Man — inquisi- 


204     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

tive  like  an  animal,  but  with  deeper  devices;  on 
the  other  side  there  is  Nature, — a  rare  collection 
of  riddles.  The  sciences  are  the  solutions. 

In  olden  times  when  the  natural  sciences  were 
young,  when  few  methods  of  investigation  were 
known,  Man  found  himself  hemmed  in  by  the 
unknown  and  mysterious,  so  oppressively  at 
times  that  a  religious  formulation  was  sought 
as  a  welcome  refuge.  At  the  end  of  his  intel- 
lectual tether,  Man  has  never  ceased  to  become 
religious. 

Now-a-days,  however,  the  rapid  development 
of  Science  has  cleared  away  a  hundred  minor 
mysteries.  Problem  after  problem  has  been 
solved,  and  the  correctness  of  the  solutions  has 
been  verified  in  practical  mastery  of  Nature. 
Man's  intellectual  tether  has  been  greatly  length- 
ened, and  there  are  not  a  few  who  give  the 
ignorant  to  understand  that  most  of  the  enigmas 
of  Nature  have  found  their  answers. 

But,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  solutions  that 
Science  offers  have  obvious  limitations.  They 
do  not  satisfy  most  men,  who  will  persist  in  ask- 
ing questions  which  Science  never  asks, — ques- 
tions about  beginnings  and  ends,  about  meanings 
and  values.  Let  us  recall  for  a  moment  some  of 
the  limitations.  Scientific  formulations  are  always 
in  terms  of  something  "given"  which  is  unex- 
plained. In  its  historical  treatment  of  things 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          205 

Science  always  begins — not  at  the  beginning,  for 
that  is  impossible,  but  from  something  "given" 
which  it  does  not  explain.  Moreover,  in  linking 
happenings  together,  it  is  only  in  a  limited  set  of 
cases  that  Science  can  tell  how  the  result  is  as  it  is. 

In  the  common  denominator  to  which  Science 
reduces  things,  in  the  sequences  where  the  result- 
ants seem  qualitatively  different  from  their  ante- 
cedents, in  the  origins  from  which  science  starts 
in  its  genealogies,  there  is  mysteriousness.  All 
our  scientific  experience  is  rounded  with  mystery. 
As  Sir  E.  Ray  Lankester  has  said:  "No  sane  man 
has  ever  pretended,  since  science  became  a  definite 
body  of  doctrine,  that  we  know  or  ever  can  hope 
to  know  or  conceive  of  the  possibility  of  knowing 
whence  the  mechanism  has  come,  why  it  is  there, 
whither  it  is  going,  and  what  may  or  may  not  be 
beyond  and  beside  it,  which  our  senses  are  in- 
capable of  appreciating.  These  things  are  not 
'explained'  by  science  and  never  can  be." 

If  we  will  have  for  our  human  satisfaction 
some  answer  to  questions  such  as  these,  which 
lie  beyond  Science,  then  it  must  be  a  transcendental 
answer,  and  that  means  for  most  men,  who  prefer 
to  think  naively,  a  religious  answer.  As  Coleridge 
Baid:  "All  knowledge  begins  and  ends  with 
Wonder,  but  the  first  wonder  is  the  child  of 
ignorance;  the  second  wonder  is  the  parent  of 
adoration." 


206      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

THE  VOICES  OF  NATURE. — Let  us  draw 
together  the  threads  of  this  simple  argument, 
which  is  meant  to  show  how,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  the  progress  of  science  must  influence 
the  growth  of  the  religious  mood.  Nature  is  so 
great — perhaps  infinitely  great — that  we  need 
not  be  too  much  afraid  of  verbal  personification, 
nor  of  speaking,  for  purposes  of  convenience, 
of  the  three  voices  of  Nature  when  we  simply 
mean  the  impulses  that  come  from  the  threefold 
— practical,  emotional,  and  intellectual — relation 
between  Man  and  Nature.  We  are  thinking,  of 
course,  of  wordless  voices,  as  is  said  with  sub- 
lime contradiction  in  the  nineteenth  Psalm:  "Day 
unto  day  is  welling  forth  speech,  and  night  unto 
night  is  breathing  out  knowledge;  yet  there  is 
no  speech,  and  there  are  no  words;  their  voice 
has  no  audible  sound,  yet  it  resonates  over  all 
the  earth." 

We  have  hinted  at  the  historical  fact  that  in 
listening  to  these  voices,  men  have  often  passed 
into  religious  experience,  almost  by  a  kind  of 
coercion.  When  a  man  after  extreme  struggle 
is  utterly  baffled  practically,  he  may  kneel  in 
prayer;  when  a  man  is  penetratingly  thrilled  with 
jbmotion  he  may  be  borne  by  its  ecstasy  into  wor- 
ship; and  when  a  man  at  the  end  of  his  scientific 
tether  is  entirely  unsatisfied  with  his  formulae — 
necessarily  as  cold  as  they  are  true — he  may 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          207 

pass  by  a  third  portal  into  conviction  of  religious 
truth. 

These  seem  to  us  to  be  historical  statements. 
Though  the  three  pathways  indicated  may  not 
be  the  only  ones,  nor  the  best,  they  are  three 
pathways  along  which  men  have  passed  to  re- 
ligion. Not  that  they  lead  inevitably  to  religious 
experience,  for  the  practically  baffled  may  become 
a  resigned  and  even  cheerful  fatalist,  the  emotion- 
ally thrilled  may  find  a  solution  in  some  form  of 
art,  and  the  unsatisfied  scientific  inquirer  may 
settle  down  into  a  contented  positivist.  But  a 
religious  result  is  just  as  common.  In  some  de- 
gree the  pathways  may  be  called  coercive,  indicat- 
ing at  sort  of  bad-weather  recourse  to  religion, 
but  perhaps  bad  weather  of  the  sort  indicated 
is  part  of  a  normal  human  experience. 

It  seems  fair  to  add  another  consideration, 
that  in  listening  to  what  we  have  called  the  three 
voices  of  Nature,  man  may  be  disciplined  to  hear 
even  more  august  voices.  Man's  struggles  for 
food  and  foot-hold  may  give  him  grit  that  helps 
towards  and  in  much  higher  grades  of  endeavour; 
to  be  thrilled  with  beauty  may  be  a  step  to  loving 
goodness;  and  to  try  to  find  out  what  is  scienti- 
fically true  in  Nature  may  be  the  beginning  of 
"waiting  patiently  upon  the  Lord." 

While  we  are  convinced  that  to  listen  to  what 
we  have  called  the  three  voices  of  Nature  is  a 


208     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

normal  and  necessary  discipline  of  the  developing 
human  spirit,  we  do  not  think  that  Man  can  find 
abiding  satisfaction  in  Nature's  voices  alone. 
Invigorating,  inspiring,  and  instructive  they  cer- 
tainly are,  but,  as  we  have  seen,  they  are  full  of 
perplexities,  and  it  is  with  a  certain  sad  wist- 
fulness'that  we  hear  their  echoes  dying  away  in 
the  quietness  of  our  minds  like  the  calls  of  curlews 
on  the  moorland  as  they  pass  farther  into  the 
mist.  Happy,  then,  in  that  quietness  are  those 
who  have  what  Sir  Thomas  Browne  called  "a 
glimpse  of  incomprehensibles,  and  thoughts  of 
things  which  thoughts  but  tenderly  touch." 

It  must  be  carefully  noted  that  we  have  spoken 
only  of  those  pathways  to  religion  which  the 
growth  of  Science  has  most  directly  affected. 
We  have  not  spoken  of  the  ethical  approach  to 
religion,  by  which  many  take  refuge  from  the 
contradictions  of  moral  experience,  nor  of  the 
approach  to  religion  which  is  followed  by  those 
who  are  able  to  see  in  history,  and  especially  in 
the  Founder  of  Christianity,  a  direct  Revelation 
of  what  is  otherwise  only  groped  after. 

THE  CONFLICT  BETWEEN  SCIENCE  AND  RELI- 
,GiON. — It  was  Clerk  Maxwell  who  spoke  of  the 
absurdity  of  trying  to  keep  "idea-tight  compart- 
jments"  in  our  minds,  and  although  some  men 
appear  to  achieve  considerable  success  in  keep- 
ing their  scientific  convictions  unrelated  to  their 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION         209 

religious  convictions,  there  is  an  element  of  gro- 
tesqueness  in  the  feat.  Insulation  of  this  sort  is 
unnatural,  and  when  very  successful  it  is  patho- 
logical. Obviously  our  whole  life  should  be  cor- 
related, and  it  is  the  endeavour  after  unification 
that  is  in  part  responsible  for  the  long-drawn- 
out  "conflict  between  science  and  religion" — a 
conflict  which  is  often  deplored,  whereas  it  means 
a  wholesome  keenness  of  interest  and  an  ideal 
of  clearness  and  consistency. 

The  "conflict  between  science  and  religion'* 
has  several  forms,  which  must  be  distinguished 
from  one  another,  (a)  In  the  first  place,  religious 
feeling  is  usually  associated  with  a  content  of 
beliefs,  directly  based  on  religious  experience  or 
dependent  on  an  interpretation  of  human  history 
and  of  Nature.  In  many  cases  the  beliefs  that x 
rest  on  interpretation  form  part  of  a  tradition 
accepted  unquestioningly  by  facile  minds,  or 
independently  tested  by  those  who  are  suffi- 
cient for  such  inquiries.  To  some  extent,  but  to  a 
continually  decreasing  extent,  these  religious 
beliefs  touch  the  world  of  the  concrete,  and  a 
clashing  with  science  must  arise  whenever  and 
wherever  the  form  of  the  religious  belief  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  results  of  science.  A  typical 
instance  occurred  in  the  infancy  of  experimental 
science  when  Galileo's  new  astronomy  could  not 
but  clash  with  a  religious  belief  which  was  for 


210     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  time  being  wrapped  up  with  the  assumption 
that  the  earth  was  the  steadfast  hub  of  the  so- 
lar system.  Now-a-days,  however,  the  religious 
mind  is  not  in  the  least  excited  over  the  question 
whether  the  earth  goes  round  the  sun,  or  the  sun 
round  the  earth,  and  this  has  been  one  of  the 
uses  of  the  "conflict  between  Science  and  Reli- 
gion," that  the  particular  "body"  which  a  reli- 
gious idea  takes,  has  been  more  and  more  sublimed. 
In  most  cases  the  religious  idea  has  become  clearer 
in  the  process. 

We  may  say,  then,  that  if  the  form  or  expres- 
sion of  a  religious  belief  is  contradictory  to  a  well- 
established  fact  in  the  order  of  Nature,  then 
clashing  is  inevitable.  But  to  see  in  this  an  an- 
tithesis between  the  scientific  formula  and  the 
religious  idea  is  a  misunderstanding. 
,  (6)  In  the  second  place,  conflict  and  confusion 
have  arisen  by  misguided  attempts  to  combine 
religious  and  scientific  formulations  in  the  hope 
iof  thus  making  things  more  intelligible.  An 
instance  may  be  found  hi  the  history  of  theories 
of  organic  evolution.  The  business  of  the  scien- 
tific evolutionist  is  to  show  how  verifiable  factors 
may  have  co-operated  to  produce  the  marvellous 
results  which  we  see  around  us  to-day.  It  goes 
without  saying  that  this  task  has  not  yet  been 
crowned  with  success.  The  results  often  seem 
strangely  out  of  proportion  to  the  known  causes, 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION         211 

In  particular  it  is  difficult  to  give  a  scientific 
account  of  the  "big  lifts"  in  the  history  of  the 
world  of  life.  It  gives  us  pause  to  think  of  the 
origin  of  Vertebrates,  of  Birds,  of  Mammals,  of 
Man.  We  cannot  speak  with  much  confidence 
of  the  operative  factors.  In  spite  of  this  unsatis- 
factory ignorance,  however,  the  scientific  mind 
recoils  with  a  jerk  from  the  assumption  of  "spir- 
itual influxes"  or  mystical  powers  of  any  sortl 
interpolated  from  outside  to  help  the  evolv- 
ing organism  over  the  stiles  of  difficulty.  The 
scientific  task  is  certainly  unfulfilled;  it  may 
be  beyond  human  attainment  to  complete  it; 
but  we  must  not  try  to  speak  two  languages  at 
once. 

(c)  In  the  third  place,  just  as  religion  is  often 
associated  with  forms  of  belief  which  are  unes- 
sential to  it,  and  which  may  be  inconsistent  with 
scientific  conclusions,!  so  science  often  goes  beyond 
its  own  sphere  and  becomes  associated  with  phil- 
osophical doctrines  which  are  unessential  to  it, 
and  which  may  conflict  with  religious  convictions. ! 
Thus,  to  take  a  familiar  instance,  materialism 
is  not  a  scientific  conclusion,  but  a  philosoph- 
ical doctrine  which  many  students  of  science 
have  embraced.  And  materialism  is  inconsistent 
with  most  forms  of  religious  belief  and  experience. 
The  point  that  we  wish  to  make  is  that  the  an- 
tagonism in  this  case  is  not  between  religion  and 


212     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

science,  but  between  religion  and  a  particular 
philosophy. 

(d)  In  the  fourth  place  the  application  of  scien- 
tific methods  of  investigation  to  the  forms  of 
religious  activity,  tends,  in  the  eyes  of  some  at 
least,  to  rob  them  of  that  mystic  atmosphere 
apart  from  which  the  religious  spirit  cannot 
•breathe.  The  genetic  method  has  penetrated  into 
the  realms  of  religion,  and  we  read  of  the  evolu- 
tion of  religious  ideas,  feelings,  and  rites.  They 
are  "explained"  and  their  survival  is  accounted 
for.  Moreover,  the  psychologist  and  even  the 
physiologist  has  had  his  innings,  and  it  seems  to 
some  as  if  religious  phenomena  were  losing  all  their 
religious  character.  Like  tender  plants  drawn  out 
from  shadowy  recesses,  they  wither  quickly  in  the 
glare  of  common  day.  Little  wonder,  then,  that 
those  to  whom  religious  experience  is  the  greatest 
reality  of  their  life  should  regard  science  as  a  foe. 
i  (e)  In  the  fifth  place,  there  is  an  indubitable 
Icontrast  between  the  scientific  and  the  religious 
paood;  they  cannot  be  simultaneous;  they  are 
not  likely  to  be  equally  strong  in  the  same  indi- 
vidual; and  there  are  reasons  why  the  culture  of 
the  former  is  not  favourable  to  the  latter.  It 
is  important  to  inquire  into  these  reasons.  How 
far  is  the  opposition  essential  and  necessary? 
How  far  is  it  due  to  the  limitations  of  our  faculties 
and  to  misunderstanding? 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          213 

It  cannot  be  that  Science  is  satisfied  with  what 
it  has  done  in  the  way  of  giving  an  account  of 
things,  or  supposes  that  it  will  soon  be  able  to 
congratulate  itself  on  having  cleared  up  all  myste- 
ries and  explained  everything.  That  is  a  view 
held  only  by  the  vulgar  and  half-educated.  As 
we  have  said  so  often,  Science  gives  no  ultimate 
explanations.  It  is  not  its  business  to  try  to  do 
so.  When  Laplace,  answering  Napoleon's  ques- 
tion about  God,  said  that  he  "had  no  need  of 
that  Hypothesis,"  he  obviously  meant  that  that 
august  concept  was  foreign  to  the  astronomical 
"universe  of  discourse."  Nor  can  it  be  said  that 
Science  engenders  an  irreverent  spirit;  the  biog- 
raphies of  all  the  greatest  scientific  investigators 
show  the  reverse.  The  irreverent  and  the  un- 
wondering  are  to  be  found  among  those  who 
know  least,  not  among  those  who  know  most. 
It  is  true  that  minor  mysteries  disappear,  or,  at 
least,  that  they  cease  to  be  mysterious  in  a  super- 
ficial way,  but  it  has  been  the  experience  of  many 
a  student  of  Science  that  when  the  half -gods  go 
the  gods  arrive. 

To  understand  the  antithesis  we  must  remember 
how  our  habitual  occupation  influences  the  mind. 
It  is  the  everyday  business  of  Science  to  work  with 
facts,  to  describe  these,  testing  and  measuring, 
to  search  out  causes,  to  discover  chains  of  sequence 
— and  all  in  such  a  way  that  the  work  done  may 


214     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

be  universally  verifiable  by  all  competent  inquir- 
ers. A  scientific  datum  should  be  quite  imper- 
sonal, and  the  statement  of  it  should  be  quite 
uncoloured  by  any  emotion.  This  habitual  occu- 
pation is  bound  to  react  on  the  organism;  it 
does  not  in  itself  favour  that  subjectivity  which  is 
characteristic  of  religious  feeling. 

We  have  to  remember  also  that  the  scientific 
spirit  has  been  slowly  learning  the  great  lesson, 
driven  home  by  positivism — that  its  formula- 
tions must  be  freed  from  the  vague  and  verbal. 
Science  ever  brandishes  "William  of  Occam's 
razor":  "Entities  are  not  to  be  multiplied  beyond 
necessity." 

Furthermore,  it  seems  that  some  importance 
must  be  attached  not  only  to  the  sceptical  habit, 
which  is  distinctively  scientific — the  testing,  veri- 
fying spirit — but  also  to  the  agnostic  frame  of 
mind.  The  scientific  inquirer  is  aware  of  so 
many  enigmas,  so  many  unsolved  or  half-solved 
problems,  that  it  is  almost  habitual  to  him  to 
say:  "I  do  not  know,"  "I  do  not  understand." 
He  has  learned  to  refrain  from  formulation  when 
the  data  are  insufficient;  he  is  accustomed  to  be 
agnostic.  Not  that  he  folds  his  hands  saying, 
"We  do  not  know  and  we  shall  never  know," 
his  is  an  active  agnosticism.  But  being  accus- 
tomed to  patience,  and  having  seen  the  solution 
of  much  that  his  forefathers  called  insoluble, 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION         215 

he  will  not  make  haste  to  adopt  transcendental 
explanations  of  particular  events.  As  Prof. 
Boutroux  puts  it:  "The  history  of  science  proves 
that  we  have  a  right  to  affirm  a  continuity  be- 
tween what  we  know  and  what  we  do  not  know. 
This  is  why  the  expression,  '  scientifically  inexplic- 
able,' is  really  without  meaning.  A  mysterious 
force,  a  miraculous  fact,  assuming  that  the  fact 
exists,  what  is  it  but  a  phenomenon  which  we 
are  unable  to  explain  with  the  help  of  the  laws 
that  we  at  present  know.  If  the  impossibility  is 
confirmed,  science  will  go  on  to  seek  for  other 
laws." 

In  this  connection,  we  venture  to  quote  a 
well-known  passage  from  the  late  Prof.  William 
James's  Will  to  Believe  (1903).  "When  one  turns 
to  the  magnificent  edifice  of  the  physical  sciences, 
and  sees  how  it  was  reared;  what  thousands  of 
disinterested  moral  lives  of  men  lie  buried  in  its 
mere  foundations;  what  patience  and  postpone- 
ment, what  choking  down  of  preference,  what  sub- 
mission to  the  icy  laws  of  outer  fact  are  wrought 
into  its  very  stones  and  mortar;  how  absolutely 
impersonal  it  stands  in  its  vast  augustness, — 
then  how  besotted  and  contemptible  seems  every 
little  sentimentalist  who  comes  blowing  his  vol- 
untary smoke-wreaths,  and  pretending  to  decide 
things  from  out  of  his  private  dream!  Can  we 
wonder  if  those  bred  in  the  rugged  and  manly 


216     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

school  of  science  should  feel  like  spewing  such 
subjectivism  out  of  their  mouths?"  We  must 
remember,  however,  James's  subsequent  conclu- 
sion that  "our  passional  nature  not  only  lawfully 
may,  but  must,  decide  an  option  between  prop- 
ositions, whenever  it  is  a  genuine  option  that 
cannot  by  its  nature  be  decided  on  intellectual 
grounds." 

Our  own  position  is  this.  Science  seeks  to 
answer  certain  kinds  of  questions  in  regard  to 
Nature  and  Man  and  the  history  of  both.  These 
answers  are  very  far  from  being  complete,  for 
the  world  is  very  large  and  science  is  very  young. 
But  even  if  the  answers  were  as  complete  all 
round  as  they  are  already  in  parts,  and  if  there 
were  also  answers  to  all  the  scientific  questions 
which  we  do  not  yet  foresee  nor  know  how  to  ask, 
yet  they  would  not  be  of  a  kind  to  satisfy  the 
whole  nature  of  the  ordinary  man.  We  get  hints 
of  complementary  answers  in  poetic  and  religious 
feeling,  and  we  see  no  reason  to  believe  that  the 
only  approach  to  Truth  or  Reality  is  by  the  scien- 
tific method.  The  satisfaction  we  reach  in  poetic 
and  religious  feeling  is  transcendental,  on  a 
different  plane  from  scientific  satisfaction.  It 
is  unverifiable,  incommunicable,  mystical,  but — 
for  ourselves — true.  In  its  mystical  character 
there  is  danger,  but  the  safeguard  is  in  steadying 
the  mind  with  Science  and  Philosophy — with 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION         217 

which  our  poetry  and  religion  must  be  harmo- 
nious. Apart  from  this,  another  test  of  the  valid- 
ity of  our  mystical  feelings  and  transcendental 
constructions  is  their  value  in  our  life. 

HERBERT  SPENCER'S  POSITION. — As  we  have 
referred  to  the  religious  convictions  of  intellectual 
giants  like  Clerk  Maxwell  and  Lord  Kelvin,  so 
we  would  in  fairness  illustrate  a  different  posi- 
tion by  reference  to  Herbert  Spencer,  who  also 
belonged  to  the  kingdom  of  genius.  Disagree 
with  his  views  as  one  may,  one  cannot  doubt 
either  the  magnitude  of  his  intellect  or  his  pas- 
sionate sincerity. 

In  early  days  he  was  an  uncompromising  critic 
af  particular  theological  doctrines  and  religious 
customs,  but  a  wider  knowledge  convinced  him 
almost  against  his  will  that  some  sort  of  religious 
cult  has  been  an  indispensable  factor  in  social 
progress.  He  looked  forward  to  a  stage  in  which,! 
"recognizing  the  mystery  of  things  as  insoluble,! 
religious  organizations  will  be  devoted  to  ethical* 
culture. 

"Thus  I  have  come  more  and  more  to  look 
calmly  on  forms  of  religious  belief  to  which  I  had, 
in  earlier  days,  a  pronounced  aversion.  Holding 
that  they  are  in  the  main  naturally  adapted  to 
their  respective  peoples  and  tunes,  it  now  seems 
to  me  well  that  they  should  severally  live  and 
work  as  long  as  the  conditions  persist,  and,  fur- 


218     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

ther,  that  sudden  changes  of  religious  institutions, 
as  of  political  institutions,  are  certain  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  reactions. 

"If  it  be  asked  why,  thinking  thus,  I  have 
persevered  in  setting  forth  views  at  variance 
with  current  creeds,  my  reply  is  the  one  elsewhere 
made:  'It  is  for  each  to  utter  that  which  he 
sincerely  believes  to  be  true,  and,  adding  his 
unit  of  influence  to  all  other  units,  leave  the 
results  to  work  themselves  out. ' " 

Largely,  however,  Spencer's  change  of  mood 
in  regard  to  religious  creeds  and  institutions 
resulted  from  "a  deepening  conviction  that  the 
sphere  occupied  by  them  can  never  become  an 
unfilled  sphere,  but  that  there  must  continue  to 
arise  afresh  the  great  questions  concerning  our- 
selves and  surrounding  things;  and  that,  if  not 
positive  answers,  then  modes  of  consciousness 
standing  in  place  of  positive  answers  must  ever 
remain." 

We  venture  to  quote  a  somewhat  lengthy 
passage  because  of  its  quite  unique  interest 
in  regard  to  the  relations  between  science  and 
religion: — 

"By  those  who  know  much,  more  than  by  those 
who  know  little,  is  there  felt  the  need  for  ex- 
planation. Whence  this  process,  inconceivable 
however  symbolized,  by  which  alike  the  monad 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION         219 

and  the  man  build  themselves  up  into  their 
respective  structures?  What  must  we  say  of  the 
life,  minute,  multitudinous,  degraded,  which,  cov- 
ering the  ocean-floor,  occupies  by  far  the  larger 
part  of  the  Earth's  area;  and  which  yet,  growing 
and  decaying  in  utter  darkness,  presents  hundreds 
of  species  of  a  single  type?  Or,  when  we  think 
of  the  myriads  of  years  of  the  Earth's  past,  during 
which  have  arisen  and  passed  away  low  forms 
of  creatures,  small  and  great,  which  murdering 
and  being  murdered,  have  gradually  evolved, 
how  shall  we  answer  the  question:  To  what  end? 
Ascending  to  wider  problems,  in  which  way  are 
we  to  interpret  the  lifelessness  of  the  greater 
celestial  masses,  the  giant  planets,  and  the 
Sun;  in  proportion  to  which  the  habitable  planets 
are  mere  nothings?  If  we  pass  from  these  rela- 
tively near  bodies  to  the  thirty  millions  of  remote 
suns  and  solar  systems,  where  shall  we  find  a 
reason  for  all  this  apparently  unconscious  exist- 
ence, infinite  in  amount  compared  with  the  exist- 
ence which  is  conscious — a  waste  Universe  as 
it  seems?  Then  behind  these  mysteries  lies  the 
all-embracing  mystery — whence  this  universal 
transformation  which  has  gone  on  unceasingly 
throughout  a  past  eternity  and  will  go  on  unceas- 
ingly throughout  a  future  eternity?  And  along 
with  this  rises  the  paralysing  thought:  What  if, 
of  all  that  is  thus  incomprehensible  to  us,  there 


220     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

exists  no  comprehension  anywhere?  No  wonder 
that  men  take  refuge  in  authoritative  dogma! 

"So  is  it,  too,  with  our  own  natures.  No  less 
inscrutable  is  this  complex  consciousness  which 
has  slowly  evolved  out  of  infantine  vacuity — 
consciousness  which,  during  the  development  of 
every  creature,  makes  its  appearance  out  of  what 
seems  unconscious  matter;  suggesting  the  thought 
that  consciousness  in  some  rudimentary  form  is 
omnipresent.  Lastly  come  insoluble  questions 
concerning  our  own  fate:  the  evidence  seeming 
so  strong  that  the  relations  of  mind  and  nerv- 
ous structure  are  such  that  the  cessation  of  the 
one  accompanies  dissolution  of  the  other,  while, 
simultaneously,  comes  the  thought,  so  strange 
and  so  difficult  to  realize,  that  with  death  there 
lapses  both  the  consciousness  of  existence  and  the 
consciousness  of  having  existed. 

"Thus  religious  creeds,  which  in  one  way  or 
other  occupy  the  sphere  that  rational  interpre- 
tation seeks  to  occupy  and  fails,  and  fails  the  more 
it  seeks,  I  have  come  to  regard  with  a  sympathy 
based  on  community  of  need:  feeling  that  dis- 
sent from  them  results  from  inability  to  accept 
the  solutions  offered,  joined  with  the  wish  that 
solutions  could  be  found"  (Spencer,  1893). 

CONTRIBUTIONS  OF  SCIENCE  TO  RELIGION.  ( 
— Some  people  are  disappointed  because  scien-; 
tific  investigation  gives  no  direct  support  to • 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION         221 

religious  convictions,  but  this  shows  a  misunder-1 
standing  of  what  is  meant  by  science  and  by  reli- 
gion. Science  establishes  conclusions  which  the 
religious  mood  may  utilize,  just  as  philosophy 
utilizes  them,  and  transfigure,  just  as  poetry 
transfigures  them;  but  it  is  the  common  con- 
fession of  the  scientific  mood  throughout  all  the 
ages  that  we  cannot  "by  searching  find  out  God." 

But  is  it  not  much  that  Science  discloses  more 
and  more  fully  the  intelligibility,  the  orderliness, 
and  the  progress! veness  of  Nature?  These  are 
big  intellectual  assets.  Is  it  not  much  that  Science 
discloses  more  and  more  fully  the  wonder  of  the 
world — the  immensities  and  the  intricacies,  the 
changing  order  and  the  orderly  changes  besides 
all  the  beauty  in  depths  and  heights  which  the 
unscientific  eye  cannot  see?  These  are  big  emo- 
tional assets.  Is  there  not  practical  value,  too, 
both  of  encouragement  and  warning,  in  the  sci- 
entific view  that  it  is  an  ascent,  not  a  descent, 
that  is  behind  us — and  in  front  of  us  too,  we  hope? 
Everything  seems  to  indicate  that  it  is  an  increas- 
ingly controllable  future  that  lies  before  us  here, 
and  it  surely  adds  zest  to  our  life  to  feel  that  we 
can  share  in  the  "increasing  purpose"  of  evolu- 
tion, in  the  working  out  of  what  seems  like  a 
great  and  beautiful  thought. 

It  is  also  fair  to  recognize  that  Science  has 
done  well  by  Religion  in  eliminating  much  that 


222     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

is  superstitious,  and  it  seems  very  unlikely  that 
its  useful  function  in  this  direction  has  been 
completed.  As  the  late  Prof.  W.  James  said: 
k*What  mankind  at  large  most  lacks  is  criticism 

id  caution,  not  faith."  "What  some,"  he  went 
to  say,  "most  need  is  that  their  faiths  should 
ibe  broken  up  and  ventilated,  that  the  north-west 
wind  of  science  should  get  into  them  and  blow 
their  sickliness  and  barbarism  away." 

SUMMAKY. — Science  and  Religion  are  incom- 
mensurables,  and  there  is  no  true  antithesis  between 
them — they  belong  to  different  universes  of  discourse. 
Science  is  descriptive  and  offers  no  ultimate  ex- 
planation; Religion  is  mystical  and  interpretative, 
implying  a  realization  of  a  higher  order  of  things 
than  those  of  sense-experience.  Men  are  led  to 
religion  along  many  pathways— -from  the  contra- 
dictions of  the  moral  life,  from  the  facts  of  his- 
tory, and  from  what  is  experienced  at  the  limits  of 
practical  endeavour,  emotional  strain,  and  intel- 
lectual inquiry.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  why  the 
rapid  development  of  Science  should  have  affected, 
for  a  time  of  transition  at  least,  the  frequency  with 
which  men  tread  the  last-named  three  pathways  to 
religion — namely,  from  baulked  struggle,  strained 
emotion,  and  baffled  inquiry.  The  so-called  "con- 
flict between  science  and  religion"  depends  in  part 
on  a  clashing  of  particular  expressions  of  religious 
belief  with  facts  of  science,  or  on  a  clashing  of 


SCIENCE  AND  RELIGION          223 

particular  scientific  philosophies  with  religious 
feeling,  or  on  attempts  to  combine  in  one  statement 
scientific  and  religious  formulations,  or  on  the  ap- 
plication of  psychological  inquiry  to  the  phases  of 
religious  experience,  or  on  the  contrast  of  the  two 
moods.  But  the  bulk  of  the  conflict  is  due  to  a  mis- 
understanding, to  a  false  antithesis  between  incom- 
mensurables.  While  Science  can  give  no  direct 
support  to  religious  convictions,  it  establishes  con- 
clusions which  the  religious  mood  may  utilize,  just 
as  philosophy  utilizes  them,  and  transfigure,  just 
as  poetry  transfigures  them. 


CHAPTER 

THE   UTILITY   OF   SCIENCE 

"The  end  of  our  foundation  [Salomon's  House 
in  the  New  Atlantis]  is  the  knowledge  of  causes 
and  the  secret  motions  of  things;  and  the  enlarg- 
ing of  the  bounds  of  human  empire,  to  the  effect- 
ing of  all  things  possible." — FRANCIS  BACON. 

Science  for  its  own  Sake — Science  and  Practical  Lore — 
Science  and  Occupation — Illustrations  of  the  Practical 
Utility  of  the  Sciences — Danger  of  Utilitarian  Criteria — 
Fundamental  Value  of  "Theoretical  Science" — Historical 
Illustrations — Socialized  Science — Summary. 

SCIENCE  FOR  ITS  OWN  SAKE. — To  see  things 
and  happenings  clearly,  both  in  themselves  and 
in  their  relations  to  other  things  and  happenings, 
is  the  aim  of  science.  And  no  one  who  enjoys 
scientific  work — whether  at  the  humble  level  of 
accurate  description,  or  at  the  high  level  of 
discovering  a  formula — cares  to  hear  much  about 
the  "utility  of  science."  No  artist  likes  utili- 
tarian valuations  of  his  art,  and  the  scientist 
understands  him  in  this  at  least.  I  also  am  an 
artist,  he  says,  or  words  to  that  effect,  meaning 
(1)  that  a  scientific  investigation  is,  like  a  picture, 
224 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        225 

an  endeavour  to  get  at  the  setting  and  significance 
of  things  or  events;  (2)  that  there  is  a  delight 
and  an  endeavour  in  scientific  workmanship  that 
is  its  own  reward;  and  (3)  that  in  the  higher 
reaches  of  science,  the  discovery  of  a  formula,  a 
general  law,  a  pedigree,  a  homology,  an  inter- 
relation— whatever  it  may  be — is  in  some  measure 
a  personal  achievement. 

"Science  for  its  own  sake,"  like  "Art  for  Art's 
sake,"  is  an  autonomy  worth  fighting  for.  Both 
scientific  inquiry  and  artistic  device  are  natural 
and  necessary  expressions  of  the  evolving  human 
spirit,  and  for  this  reason  a  utilitarian  apology 
for  either  is  gratuitous.  Scientific  inquiry  is 
noble  in  itself,  and  it  is  its  own  reward.  As 
Bacon  said:  "We  see  in  all  other  pleasures  there 
is  satiety,  and  after  they  be  used  their  verdure 
departeth.  .  .  .  But  of  knowledge  there  is  no 
satiety,  but  satisfaction  and  appetite  are  per- 
petually interchangeable,  and  therefore  it  ap- 
peareth  to  be  good  in  itself  simply  without 
fallacy  or  accident." 

SCIENCE  AND  PRACTICAL  LORE. — Historical  in- 
quiry shows  that  the  concrete  sciences  grew  out 
of  practical  lore,  and  that  even  after  they  began 
to  stand  on  their  own  legs  as  independent  theo- 
retical interpretations  of  Nature,  they  have  often 
received  fresh  stimulus  by  coming  back  to  prac- 
tical problems.  Did  not  botany  arise  out  of 


226      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

herb-gathering  and  gardening,  and  has  not 
botany  as  a  science  got  an  uplift  from  all  its 
many  contacts  with  human  needs?  We  think 
of  yeast  and  fermentations,  of  bacteria  and  dis- 
eases, of  diatoms  and  fish-supply,  of  breeding 
experiments  and  the  improvement  of  our  food- 
plants,  of  plant-associations  and  inter-relations 
in  then*  bearing  on  the  perennial  problem  of 
making  the  most  of  the  Earth  for  our  children  as 
well  as  for  ourselves. 

The  lore  of  the  hunter,  the  fisher,  the  shepherd 
is  older  than  all  zoology,  and  every  thoughtful 
naturalist  will  agree  that  his  science  runs  a  risk 
of  losing  vitality  and  real  progressiveness  if  it 
gets  too  far  away  from  the  actual  life  of  animals 
as  it  is  lived  in  Nature.  Nay  more,  that  just  as  a 
stimulus  has  been  periodically  given  to  zoological 
studies  by  the  return  of  a  great  expedition,  such 
as  the  Challenger,  with  its  enthralling  splendour  of 
animate  spoils,  so  the  tackling  of  some  practical 
problem  of  real  moment  has  often  been  followed 
by  some  impulse  to  pure  science. 

It  is  perhaps  going  too  far  to  say  with  Prof. 
Espinas:  "Practice  has  always  gone  in  advance 
of  theory";  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  science 
and  practice  act  and  react  most  beneficially  upon 
one  another.  Science  has  grown  out  of  practical 
lore,  and  it  has  nothing  to  gain,  but  much  to  lose, 
by  forgetting  its  origins. 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        227 

Perhaps,  however,  there  is  still  some  danger 
— though  it  is  rapidly  diminishing — of  practical 
lore  refusing  the  aid  of  science.  The  old  farmer, 
who  has  made  his  fields  and  his  stock  pay  for 
hah*  a  century,  has  no  use  for  the  new  science  of 
the  living  earth,  which  teems  with  Protozoa  as 
well  as  with  Bacteria,  and  he  has  no  appetite  for 
Mendelism.  The  old  fisherman,  who  has  some- 
times an  almost  uncanny  skill  in  reading  the 
riddle  of  the  sea — in  finding  out  where  he  is  and 
where  the  fish  are  likely  to  be — is  not  athirst  for 
ichthyological  instruction,  though,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  when  he  is  approached  sympathetically,  and 
as  one  who  has  something  to  impart  as  well  as 
as  to  receive,  he  often  proves  himself  an  effective 
student.  We  need  not  multiply  examples,  for  the 
point  is  a  simple  one. 

Much  of  the  practical  lore  is  thoroughly  scien- 
tific though  it  may  never  have  been  stated.  The 
use  of  instruction  is  to  make  it  conscious,  com- 
municable, and  more  plastic,  and  to  get  down  to 
the  principles  which  it  unconsciously  illustrates. 
For  wonderful  as  is  the  lore  that  comes  from 
instinctive  insight  to  start  with  and  long  experi- 
ence to  back  this  up,  it  not  only  tends  to  die  with 
its  possessor,  but  like  instinct,  as  contrasted  with 
intelligence,  in  animals,  it  is  apt  to  be  thrown  out 
of  gear  by  some  slight  change  in  the  conditions  of 
application. 


228      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

At  the  same  time  we  feel  bound  to  admit  that 
the  endeavour  to  formulate  practical  lore  is  not 
likely  to  have  more  than  partial  success,  for  there 
is  an  unanalysable  element  in  its  higher  reaches. 
This  is  well  known  in  the  case  of  some  of  the  ex- 
perienced physicians  of  the  older  school  whose 
insight  in  diagnosis  has  often  excited  the  won- 
der and  envy  of  their  more  scientific  successors. 
Perhaps  there  was  sometimes  more  hard  work 
behind  it  than  was  usually  supposed,  but  it  seems 
certain  that  in  many  fields  there  are  men  with 
a  remarkable  power  of  intuition,  born  not  made, 
of  whose  methods  even  self -analysis  can  give  no 
account. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  all  the  sciences — not 
excepting  psychology  and  sociology — sprang  from 
concrete  experience.  Mathematics  is  abstract 
enough,  but  what  does  its  history  show?  "Man 
began  arithmetic  with  experience  of  the  number 
of  his  fingers  and  toes,  and  geometry  with  expe- 
rience of  the  magnitude  of  his  hands,  feet,  and 
arms.  He  went  on  to  use  these  concrete  bod- 
ies as  standards  to  measure  other  bodies.  Geom- 
etry means  the  measurement  of  lands;  and  the 
most  ancient  Egyptian  book  of  mathematics,  the 
papyrus  of  Ahmes,  about  1700  B.C.,  measures 
barns,  pyramids,  and  obelisks,  and  treats  solid 
bodies  before  proceeding  to  abstract  surfaces. 
Mathematics,  in  short,  began  with  concrete  bodies, 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        229 

such  as  could  only  be  reached  by  means  of  expe- 
rience, and  only  gradually  receded  from  the  con- 
crete to  the  abstract,  to  the  units  of  abstract 
arithmetic,  and  the  points  of  abstract  geometry. 
The  Greeks  achieved  this  analysis  from  concrete 
to  abstract,  and  thus  converted  mathematics  from 
analysis  to  synthesis,  which  begins  with  the  ab- 
stract unit  as  origin  of  number,  and  with  the 
abstract  point  as  simpler  than  the  line.  But 
the  order  of  discovery  was  from  the  concrete  and 
analytical,  although  afterwards  the  order  of  de- 
velopment was  from  the  abstract  and  synthetic  " 
(Prof.  T.  Case,  1906,  p.  6). 

It  is  good  history  that  the  sciences  sprang  out 
of  the  lore  of  occupations,  and  it  is  also  a  fact  of 
no  small  ethical  importance.  "  We  cannot  get 
away  from  our  ancestors.  Just  as  a  physical 
scientist  is  a  smith,  so  is  the  botanist  a  farmer 
and  shepherd,  the  zoologist  a  huntsman,  the  geog- 
rapher a  sailor,  the  historian  a  scald,  the  doctor 
a  wizard  or  medicine-man,  and  the  lawyer  a 
scribe.  As  for  the  mathematician,  his  material 
— the  oldest  science  of  all — has  been  drawn  from 
such  a  variety  of  occupations  that,  if  he  vividly 
grasps  the  spirit  of  the  history  of  his  science 
(though,  unfortunately,  this  is  rarely  the  case), 
he  should  find  himself  in  a  very  real  sense  the 
heir  to  all  the  ages,  and  become  imbued  with 
sympathy  for  all  occupations."  (Branford,  1904.) 


230     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

SCIENCE  AND  OCCUPATION. — In  an  address 
with  this  title  (Journal  of  Education,  June,  1904), 
Mr.  Benchara  Branford  expounds  "this  deep 
truth,  that  all  theory,  all  knowledge,  all  the  broad 
groups  of  sciences,  originally  sprang  from  the 
experience  gathered  by  man  from  one  or  other 
of  his  numerous  occupations."  "We  must  not 
imagine  that  science  floats,  as  it  were,  in  the  clouds, 
serenely  isolated  from  the  hum  and  bustle  and 
occupations  of  the  busy  world,  and  developing 
in  some  mysterious  way  of  its  own."  "Science 
ultimately  sprang,  and  is  continually  springing, 
from  the  desires  and  efforts  of  men  to  increase 
their  skill  in  their  occupations  by  understanding 
the  eternal  principles  that  underlie  all  dealings 
of  man  with  Nature  and  of  man  with  his  fellow- 
men."  "And  if  science  ultimately  has  sprung 
from,  and  is  continually  springing  anew  from, 
occupations,  science  has  repaid  the  debt  both 
by  rendering  those  who  follow  her  teaching  more 
skilled  in  their  occupations  and  by  actually  giving 
rise  by  her  discoveries  to  absolutely  new  types 
of  occupations.  One  of  the  great  conditions  of 
human  progress  is  this  unceasing  reciprocal 
relationship  between  occupation  and  science, 
each  constantly  producing  and  being  produced 
by  the  other.  Out  of  many  instances  I  shall 
choose  one  striking  example  of  the  development 
of  science  from  occupation. 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE       231 

"Monge  was  bora  the  son  of  a  French  pedlar 
about  1750.  The  construction  of  a  plan  he  made 
of  his  native  town  brought  the  boy  under  the 
notice  of  a  colonel  of  Engineers,  who  got  him 
admitted  to  one  of  the  military  schools.  His 
humble  birth  precluded  him  from  receiving  a 
commission  in  the  Army,  but  he  was  taught 
surveying  and  drawing;  though  he  was  told  he 
was  not  sufficiently  well  born  to  be  allowed  to 
attempt  problems  which  required  mathematical 
calculations.  At  last  his  opportunity  came.  He 
observed  that  all  the  plans  of  fortifications  were 
constructed  by  long  and  tedious  arithmetical 
calculations  from  the  original  observed  measure- 
ments. Monge  substituted  for  these  a  geomet- 
rical process  he  had  invented  which  produced 
the  plan  so  quickly  that  the  officer  in  charge  re- 
fused to  receive  it,  because  professional  etiquette 
required  that  no  less  than  a  certain  time  should 
be  spent  over  making  these  drawings.  When 
once  examined,  its  obvious  superiority  was  recog- 
nized. This  geometrical  process  discovered  by 
Monge  was  nothing  less  than  a  new  branch  of 
geometry — known  to  students  of  engineering  as 
practical  solid  geometry — a  science  in  which,  by 
the  now  familiar  method  of  plan  and  elevation, 
a  solid  object  can  be  represented  adequately 
by  construction  on  a  plane — a  method  whose 
practical,  or,  let  me  say,  occupational,  value 


232     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

can  scarcely  be  over-estimated,  and  the  further 
development  of  which  by  Monge  had  far-reach- 
ing effects  upon  mathematical  science  itself. 
Here  we  have  a  new  and  distinct  branch  of 
science  springing  directly  from  the  occupation 
of  war,  on  its  engineering  side." 

ILLUSTRATIONS  or  THE  PRACTICAL  UTILITY 
OF  THE  SCIENCES. — The  long  list  of  what  are 
called  "Applied  Sciences" — a  term  which  Huxley 
hated  so  heartily — shows  the  number  and  the 
variety  of  the  practical  utilizations  of  Science. 
We  cannot  give  more  than  a  few  examples, 
which  may  be  multiplied  by  reference  to  other 
scientific  volumes,  in  this  Library.  Thus  while 
every  one  knows  more  or  less  clearly  that  astron- 
omy still  continues  to  be  of  use  in  navigation,  we 
find  in  Mr.  Hinks's  fascinating  volume  that  the 
science  also  earns  its  living  by  helping  the  sur- 
veyor and  the  map-maker,  and  by  supplying  the 
world  with  accurate  time.  Even  to  ships  upon 
the  sea  the  astronomers  now  tell  the  time  of  day 
by  wireless  telegraphy. 

Numerous  chemical  arts — such  as  brewing, 
soap-making  and  dyeing — were  practised  before 
there  was  a  science  of  chemistry,  but  the  multi- 
plication of  these  under  direct  scientific  stimulus 
is  past  telling.  Think  only,  for  instance,  of  the 
cyanide  processes  for  the  recovery  of  gold  from 
its  ores,  of  the  technical  development  of  ben- 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        233 

zene  and  its  derivatives,  of  the  electro-chemical 
industry,  of  the  improvement  of  steel-making, 
of  the  synthetic  production  of  substances  like 
indigo  which  were  formerly  procurable  only  as 
natural  products,  and  of  the  utilization  of  the 
nitrogen  of  the  air  in  the  manufacture  of  ferti- 
lizers. Among  the  many  practical  benefits 
resulting  from  the  development  of  physics,  we 
naturally  think  first  of  some  of  the  more  recent — 
the  telegraph,  the  telephone,  wireless  telegraphy, 
electric  motors,  and  flying  machines.  From  the 
sciences  of  the  earth  man  has  profited  enormously 
— for  they  have  led  him  to  stores  of  coal  and  iron 
and  other  buried  treasures.  From  oceanography 
already  there  are  conclusions  of  importance  in  con- 
nection with  fisheries,  and  meteorology,  another 
very  young  science,  has  already  to  be  thanked  for 
much  saving  of  life  and  wealth  through  its  pro- 
phetic weather  reports. 

On  the  biological  side  we  may  mention  as 
diverse  illustrations,  the  applications  of  bacte- 
riology in  surgery,  hygiene,  agriculture,  and  the 
preservation  or  improvement  of  food;  the  appli- 
cation of  "protozoology"  to  the  study  of  such 
diseases  as  pebrine  in  silkworms  and  sleeping- 
sickness  in  man;  the  influence  on  medicine  of  the 
physiological  discovery  of  internal  secretions  like 
those  of  the  thyroid  gland  and  the  suprarenals; 
the  study  of  the  whole  economy  of  the  sea  in 


234      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

relation  to  various  kinds  of  fisheries;  and  the 
utilization  of  Mendel's  principles  of  heredity  in 
the  practical  improvement  of  domestic  animals 
and  cultivated  plants. 

In  his  Wonderful  Century  Dr.  Alfred  Russel 
Wallace  made  an  interesting  comparison  between 
the  practically  important  applications  of  science 
in  the  nineteenth  century  and  those  in  all  pre- 
ceding centuries.  Among  new  departures  of  the 
nineteenth  century  he  reckoned  thirteen  as  of 
first  importance,  namely — railways,  steam-navi- 
gation, electric  telegraphs,  the  telephone,  friction 
matches,  gas  lighting,  electric  lighting,  photog- 
raphy, the  phonograph,  Rontgen  rays,  spectrum 
analysis,  the  use  of  anaesthetics,  and  the  use  of 
antiseptics.  In  all  preceding  time  he  reckoned 
only  five  inventions  of  the  first  rank — the  tele- 
scope, the  printing  press,  the  mariner's  compass, 
Arabic  numerals,  and  alphabetical  writing,  to 
which  may  be  added  the  steam-engine  and  the 
barometer,  "making  seven  in  all,  as  against 
thirteen  in  one  single  century."  Perhaps  this 
estimate  was  a  little  more  generous  to  the  nine- 
teenth century  than  to  those  before  it,  but  it  is 
certainly  fair  enough  to  bring  out  in  a  very  inter- 
esting way  the  concomitance  of  the  progress  of 
science  and  practically  important  inventions. 

DANGER  OF  UTILITARIAN  CRITERIA. — The  list 
of  practical  benefits  which  Science  has  con- 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        235 

ferred  on  man  might  be  greatly  lengthened,  but 
what  we  have  given  is  perhaps  sufficiently  repre- 
sentative, and  there  is  much  risk  of  over-empha- 
sizing the  utilitarian  criteria.  The  too  intensely 
practical  man  has  got  so  accustomed  to  the 
fruits  of  Science  that  he  is  apt  to  forget  that  these 
cannot  be  forthcoming  if  the  roots  die.  There- 
fore to  the  critic  who  growls  over  the  time  spent 
on  studying  sea-weeds,  when  "what  we  want  is 
more  wheat,"  over  embryological  research  in- 
stead of  fish-hatching,  over  the  theoretical  puz- 
zles of  geology  instead  of  the  search  for  more 
coal  and  iron,  we  must  answer,  first,  that  man 
does  not  live  by  bread  alone;  second,  that  he 
must  be  patient  if  his  desired  practical  results 
are  to  be  sure;  third,  that  Science  is  a  unity,  and 
the  theoretical  foundation  is  essential  if  there 
is  to  be  progressive  practical  application;  and, 
fourth,  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  has  often  been 
from  the  most  unpromising  theoretical  investi- 
gations that  great  practical  discoveries  have 
come.  Even  for  the  sake  of  practice,  Science 
should  never  submit  to  the  over-practical  man's 
canon  which  makes  immediate  utility  a  strin- 
gent criterion  of  worthiness. 

To-day,  as  much  as  ever,  when  the  enthusi- 
asm for  "practical  results"  is  so  strong,  we  do 
well  to  remember  the  distinction  drawn  by  Bacon, 
nearly  four  hundred  years  ago,  between  those 


236      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

results  of  Science  which  are  light-giving  (lucifera) 
and  those  which  are  of  direct  practical  utility 
(fructifera).  Regarding  which,  he  came  to  the 
memorable  conclusion:  "Just  as  the  vision  of 
light  itself  is  something  more  excellent  and  beau- 
tiful than  its  manifold  use,  so  without  doubt  the 
contemplation  of  things  as  they  are,  without 
superstition  or  imposture,  without  error  or  con- 
fusion, is  in  itself  a  nobler  thing  than  a  whole 
harvest  of  inventions."  It  is  an  intolerable  nar- 
row-mindedness which  supposes  that  a  science 
can  be  judged  only  by  its  practical  fruits  and  not 
also  by  its  virtue  of  illumination. 

FUNDAMENTAL  VALUE  OF  "THEORETICAL  SCI- 
ENCE."— This  little  book  will  not  have  been 
written  in  vain  if  it  contributes  to  expose  the 
pernicious  fallacy,  which  has  deceived  many, 
that  science  can  be  pruned  of  its  theoretical 
developments  and  yet  continue  to  bear  fruit. 
It  is  supposed  by  the  ignorant  that  these  "efflor- 
escences" could  be  dispensed  with — mere  luxu- 
ries of  the  intelligence,  and  out  of  place  in  a 
utilitarian  age.  The  fact  is  that  they  are  the 
blossoms,  which  in  part  become  fruits. 

One  of  the  deleterious  results  of  the  fallacy 
is  that  it  has  suggested  to  students  and  directors 
of  studies — at  all  levels — the  mistaken  policy  of 
trying  to  secure  a  "technical  education"  with- 
out an  adequately  substantial  scientific  training. 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        237 

Perhaps  this  is  a  Nemesis  on  the  heels  of  ultra- 
academic  curricula  which  might  have  been  orien- 
tated in  relation  to  practical  professional  problems 
without  any  loss  in  the  thoroughness  or  all-round- 
ness of  the  scientific  discipline;  but  the  recoil  is 
resulting  in  a  technician  who  is  insufficiently 
grounded  in  the  principles. 

Students  of  Science  have  indeed  primarily  to 
do  with  the  kind  of  investigation  whose  results 
Bacon  called  lucifera,  but  our  point  is  that  this 
is  the  surest,  and  sometimes  even  the  shortest 
road  to  that  other  kind  of  result  which  he  called 
fructifera.  In  one  of  his  lectures  Prof.  Karl 
Pearson  makes  the  following  impressive  statement 
of  his  own  experience:  "I  have  been  engaged  for 
sixteen  years  in  helping  to  train  engineers,  and 
those  of  my  old  pupils  who  are  now  coming  to 
the  front  in  life  are  not  those  who  stuck  to  facts 
and  formulae,  and  sought  only  for  what  they 
thought  would  be  'useful  to  them  in  their  pro- 
fession.' On  the  contrary,  the  lads  who  paid 
attention  to  method,  who  thought  more  of  proofs 
than  of  formulae,  who  accepted  even  the  special- 
ized branches  of  their  training  as  a  means  of 
developing  habits  of  observation  rather  than  of 
collecting  'useful  facts,'  these  lads  have  developed 
into  men  who  are  succeeding  in  life.  And  the 
reason  of  this  seems  to  me,  when  considering 
their  individual  cases,  to  be  that  they  could  adapt 


238      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

themselves  to  an  environment  more  or  less  differ- 
ent from  that  of  the  existing  profession;  they 
could  go  beyond  its  processes,  its  formulae,  and 
its  facts,  and  develop  new  ones.  Their  knowl- 
edge of  method  and  their  powers  of  observation 
enabled  them  to  supply  new  needs,  to  answer  to 
the  call  when  there  was  a  demand,  not  for  old 
knowledge,  but  for  trained  brains."  .  .  .  "The 
only  sort  of  technical  education  the  nation  ought 
to  trouble  about  is  teaching  people  to  see  and 
think."  .  .  .  "What  we  want  are  trained  brains, 
scouts  in  all  fields,  and  not  a  knowledge  of  facts 
and  processes  crammed  into  a  wider  range  of 
untrained  minds."  It  comes  to  this:  that,  on 
the  whole,  the  deeper  and  more  difficult  studies, 
which  stretch  our  brains  most,  are  of  much  more 
value,  even  technically,  than  what  are  called 
"useful  facts." 

In  an  interesting  address  on  "The  Debt  of 
the  World  to  Pure  Science,"  Prof.  J.  J.  Stephen- 
son  points  out  that  the  fundamental  importance 
of  abstruse  research  receives  too  little  consider- 
ation in  our  time,  except,  of  course,  from  those 
who  really  know.  The  practical  side  of  life  is 
all-absorbent;  and  it  is  forgotten  that  "the  foun- 
dation of  industrial  advance  was  laid  by  workers 
in  pure  science,  for  the  most  part  ignorant  of 
utility  and  caring  little  about  it."  .  .  .  "The 
investigator  takes  the  first  step  and  makes  the 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        239 

inventor  possible.  Thereafter,  the  inventor's 
work  aids  the  investigator  in  making  new  dis- 
coveries to  be  utilized  in  their  turn." 

It  is  quite  plain  from  the  history  of  Science 
that  the  practical  value  of  Science  is  in  direct 
proportion  to  the  precision  of  scientific  methods, 
and  that  the  most  "theoretical"  investigations 
have  often  had  practical  results  of  extraordinary 
magnitude.  It  is  not  merely  that  the  theory 
forms  the  foundations  of  the  Science,  there  is 
another  reason.  Scientific  descriptions  increase 
in  value  as  they  become  absolutely  impersonal, 
as  they  become  perfectly  precise,  and  especially 
as  they  become  condensed  general  formulae  which 
will  be  applicable  to  an  infinite  variety  of  par- 
ticular situations.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
quiet  thinkers  in  the  scientific  cloisters  are,  like 
the  poets,  the  makers  and  shakers  of  the  world. 

HISTORICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. — Only  the  ex- 
tremely ignorant  can  question  the  utility  of, 
let  us  say,  the  prolonged  application  of  Greek 
intellect  to  the  laws  of  conic  sections.  Whether 
we  think  of  bridges  or  of  projectiles,  of  the  curves 
of  ships  or  of  the  rules  of  navigation,  we  must 
think';  of  conic  sections.  The  rules  of  navigation, 
for  instance,  are  in  part  based  on  astronomy. 
Kepler's  Laws  are  foundation-stones  of  that 
science,  but  Kepler  discovered  that  Mars  moves 
in  an  ellipse  round  the  sun  in  one  of  the  foci  by 


240      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

a  deduction  from  conic  sections.  As  Laplace 
said,  "Without  the  speculations  of  the  Greeks  on 
the  curves  formed  from  the  section  of  a  cone  by 
a  plane,  these  beautiful  laws  might  have  been 
still  unknown."  Yet  the  historical  fact  is  that 
these  conic  sections  were  studied  as  an  abstract 
science  for  eighteen  centuries  before  they  came  to 
be  of  their  highest  use. 

Those  who  doubt  the  value  of  "theoretical 
researches"  should  study  Pasteur's  life  and  ob- 
serve how  his  services  to  mankind  were  based  on 
inquiries  which  seemed  at  first  sight  remote  from 
human  application.  It  is  true  that  Pasteur  may 
be  interpreted  as  the  master-peasant,  and  the 
tanner's  son  (see  Evolution,  p.  224),  but  this 
need  not  keep  us  from  recognizing  that  his  re- 
searches form  an  intellectual  chain,  the  first  link 
of  which  was  a  study  of  the  crystalline  forms  of 
tartrates.  Thus,  justly,  the  list  of  his  achieve- 
ments, recorded  around  his  tomb,  begins  with 
"Molecular  dissymmetry,  1848,"  an  almost  dia- 
grammatically  theoretical  beginning  for  a  series 
of  researches  which  have  had  such  a  deep  and 
extensive  influence  on  the  life  of  Man. 

The  twitching  of  the  legs  of  Galvani's  frogs 
was  studied  as  a  theoretical  curiosity;  who 
could  have  foretold  that  it  pointed  to  telegraphy? 
It  was  not  for  practical  purposes  that  William 
Smith  plodded  afoot  over  England,  neither  rest- 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        241 

ing  nor  hurrying  in  his  exploration  of  the  strata, 
but  how  much  of  the  exploitation  of  our  country's 
mineral  resources  had  its  origin  in  his  maps? 
The  important  method  of  spectrum  analysis  had 
its  beginning  in  some  apparently  insignificant 
observations.  Who  can  say  that  the  early  steps 
which  led  to  finding  a  cave  of  treasures  (not  alto- 
gether without  alloy)  in  coal-tar  had,  to  begin 
with,  any  practical  outlook? 

From  an  address  on  Technical  Chemistry,  by 
Prof.  C.  E.  Munroe,  we  take  another  striking 
case.  "The  experience  of  the  past  has  repeatedly 
demonstrated  the  commercial  possibilities  that 
are  latent  in  scientific  theories.  A  famous  exam- 
ple is  found  in  the  commercial  development  of 
benzene.  Lachman,  in  1898,  after  referring  to 
its  discovery  by  Faraday  in  1825,  and  its  pro- 
duction from  benzoic  acid  by  Mitscherlich  nine 
years  later,  says:  'These  famous  chemists  little 
thought  that  their  limpid  oil  would  one  day  lay 
claim  to  be  the  most  important  substance  in 
organic  chemistry;  that  it  would  give  birth  to 
untold  thousands  of  compounds;  that  it  would 
revolutionize  science  and  technology.  The  tech- 
nical development  of  benzene  and  its  derivatives 
employs  over  fifteen  thousand  workmen  in  Ger- 
many alone;  the  commercial  value  of  the  prod- 
ucts reaches  tens  of  millions  of  dollars.  .  .  . 
Nearly  all  of  this  tremendous  activity  is  due  to  a 


242     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

single  idea,  advanced  in  a  masterly  treatise  by 
Auguste  KeTcuU  in  the  year  1865.'" 

It  is  a  commonplace  that  the  developments  of 
steam-power,  electric  Telegraphy,  Telephony,  and 
Dynamo-electrical  machinery,  which  have  changed 
human  life  so  markedly,  have  come  about  in 
association  with  new  theoretical  developments  in 
the  sciences  of  heat  and  electricity.  To  substan- 
tiate this  precisely  is  not  difficult,  but  an  analo- 
gous case  will,  we  think,  suffice  for  demonstration. 
When  Prof.  William  Thomson  published,  hi  1853, 
in  the  Philosophical  Magazine,  a  stiff  bit  of 
mathematical  analysis,  which  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  the  theory  of  electric  oscillations,  there 
can  have  been  few  who  saw  in  it  the  basis  of 
wireless  telegraphy. 

In  this  connection,  it  is  very  interesting  to 
hear  Lord  Kelvin's  own  opinion,  for  he  excelled 
alike  in  theoretical  insight  and  in  practical  appli- 
cation. After  speaking  of  "the  vast  resources 
which  we  derive  from  direct  applications  of  mod- 
ern science,"  "of  the  immense  practical  impor- 
tance of  the  principles  of  Natural  Philosophy," 
he  says:  "We  must  not,  however,  by  considera- 
tions of  this  kind,  be  led  to  regard  applications 
to  the  ordinary  purposes  of  life  as  the  proper 
object  and  end  of  science.  Nothing  could  more 
effectually  stop  the  advancement  of  knowledge 
than  the  prevalence  of  such  views;  even  the 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        243 

desired  practically  useful  discoveries  would  not 
be  made  if  researches  obnoxious  to  the  fatal  ques- 
tion cui  bono  were  to  be  uniformly  avoided.  .  .  . 
Oersted  would  never  have  made  his  great  dis- 
covery of  the  action  of  galvanic  currents  on  mag- 
nets had  he  stopped  in  his  researches  to  consider 
in  what  manner  they  could  possibly  be  turned  to 
practical  account;  and  so  we  should  not  now 
be  able  to  boast  of  the  wonders  done  by  the  elec- 
tric telegraph.  Indeed,  no  great  law  in  Natural 
Philosophy  has  ever  been  discovered  for  its 
practical  applications,  but  the  instances  are  in- 
numerable of  investigations  apparently  quite 
useless,  in  this  narrow  sense  of  the  word,  which 
have  led  to  the  most  valuable  results." 

Dr.  A.  E.  Shipley  has  recently  called  attention 
to  two  diagrammatic  illustrations  of  our  theme. 
"A  few  years  ago  no  knowledge  could  seem  more 
useless  to  the  practical  man,  no  search  more 
futile  than  that  which  sought  to  distinguish  be- 
tween one  species  of  gnat  or  tick  and  another; 
yet  that  knowledge  has  rendered  it  possible  to 
open  up  Africa  and  to  cut  the  Panama  Canal. 
This  witness,"  Mr.  F.  A.  Dixey  remarks,  "is 
true;  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  point  to  a  more 
complete  demonstration  of  the  fact  that  natural 
knowledge,  pursued  for  its  own  sake,  without 
any  direct  view  to  future  utility,  will  often  lead 
to  results  of  the  most  unexpected  kind  and  of 


244      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  very  highest  practical  importance"  (Nature, 
Sept.  2,  1909). 

We  see,  then,  that  undue  insistence  on  the 
practical  utility  of  science  is  not  historically 
justified,  and  that  hasty  criticism  of  lines  of 
scientific  work  as  purely  theoretical  is  likely  to 
be  very  unjust.  What  practical  result  may  flow 
from  an  apparently  abstruse  and  detached  inves- 
tigation no  one  is  wise  enough  to  predict,  and 
inventions  usually  rest  on  a  patiently  established 
theoretical  basis.  Minerva-like  birth  of  dis- 
coveries is  rare.  As  Prof.  Stephenson  puts  it: 
"Discoveries  which  prove  all-important  in  secon- 
dary results  do  not  burst  forth  full  grown;  they 
are,  so  to  say,  the  crown  of  a  structure  raised 
painfully  and  noiselessly  by  men  indifferent  to 
this  world's  affairs,  caring  little  for  fame  and 
even  less  for  wealth.  Facts  are  gathered,  prin- 
ciples are  discovered,  each  falling  into  its  own 
place  until  at  last  the  brilliant  crown  shines  out, 
and  the  world  thinks  it  sees  a  miracle." 

The  ultra-practical  man's  impatient  "What's 
the  use  of  it?"  may  be  occasionally  a  sound 
corrective,  since  science,  as  well  as  art,  requires 
to  be  socialized.  But  it  often  reveals  an  intel- 
lectual shortsightedness.  As  Sir  Lyon  Playfair 
once  said:  "Truer  relations  of  science  to  industry 
are  implied  in  Greek  mythology.  Vulcan,  the 
god  of  industry,  wooed  science,  in  the  form  of 


THE  UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        245 

Minerva,  with  a  passionate  love,  but  the  chaste 
goddess  never  married.  Yet  she  conferred  upon 
mankind  nearly  as  many  arts  as  Prometheus." 

SOCIALIZED  SCIENCE. — But  how  does  the  idea 
of  science  for  its  own  sake  harmonize  with  that 
expressed  in  Spencer's  sentence:  "Science  is  for 
Lifei  not  Life  for  Science  "  ?  There  is  no  antithesis. 

1.  Science  is  certainly  for  the  development  of 
life,  but  "life"  must  not  be  conceived  of  nar- 
rowly.   "Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the 
body  than  raiment?  " 

2.  Moreover,    for    educated    men    in    modern 
civilized    communities,    life    must    be    to    some 
extent  for  science,  if  it  is  to  have  any  degree  of 
completeness. 

3.  Our  point  has  been  that  Science  will  do 
best  for  the  citizen  if  it  is  left  to  attend  to  its  own 
business. 

On  the  other  hand,  while  we  may  not  be  able 
to  say  of  any  specialized  line  of  scientific  inquiry 
that  it  is  not  of  value  to  human  life,  there  are  some 
which  are  more  promising  and  urgent  than  others. 
Many  kinds  of  quantitative  descriptive  work, 
which  afford  very  enjoyable  occupation  to  natu- 
ralists and  very  useful  disciplining  material  for 
apprentices,  are  not  particularly  urgent.  And 
eventually  we  must  admit  that  men  of  science 
are  the  intellectual  advisers  and  educators  of  the 
great  mass  of  humanity  who  are  concerned  with 


246     INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

the  fundamental  problem  of  bread  and  butter, 
with  the  science  known  as  "Brodwissenschaft." 

Therefore,  since  scientific  investigators  are  as 
liable  to  preoccupation  as  other  men,  it  is  well 
that  prominence  should  be  given  to  the  humane 
ideal  of  socialized  science.  Bacon  got  at  it  long 
ago  in  the  description  which  he  gives  of  the  true 
spirit  of  the  scientific  investigator  in  a  famous 
passage  in  the  Advancement  of  Learning:  "This 
is  that  which  will  indeed  dignify  and  exalt  knowl- 
edge if  contemplation  and  action  be  more  nearly 
and  straitly  conjoined  and  united  together  than 
they  have  been;  for  men  have  entered  into  a 
desire  of  learning  and  knowledge,  sometimes  upon 
a  natural  curiosity  and  inquisitive  appetite;  some- 
times to  entertain  their  minds  with  variety  and 
delight;  sometimes  for  ornament  and  reputa- 
tion; and  sometimes  to  enable  them  to  victory 
of  wit  and  contradiction;  and  most  times  for 
lucre  and  profession;  and  seldom  sincerely  to 
give  a  true  account  of  their  gift  of  reason  to  the 
benefit  of  man;  as  if  there  were  sought  in  knowl- 
edge a  couch  whereupon  to  repose  a  searching  and 
restless  spirit;  or  a  tarasse  for  a  wandering  and 
variable  mind  to  walk  up  and  down  with  a  fair 
prospect;  or  a  tower  of  state  for  a  proud  mind 
to  raise  itself  upon;  or  a  fort  or  commanding 
ground  for  strife  and  contention;  or  a  shop  for 
profit  or  sale;  and  not  a  rich  storehouse  for 


THE   UTILITY  OF  SCIENCE        247 

the  glory  of  the  Creator  and  the  relief  of  man's 
estate." 

But  there  are  two  sides  to  this  idea  of  social- 
ization, the  other  being  the  duty  of  the  State  to 
utilize  the  resources  of  Science  in  the  solution 
of  practical  problems.  Whether  we  think  of  the 
more  effective  and  less  wasteful  exploitation  of 
the  Earth,  or  of  the  gathering  in  of  the  harvest 
of  the  sea,  or  of  making  occupations  more  whole- 
some, or  of  beautifying  human  surroundings,  or  of 
exterminating  infectious  diseases,  or  of  improving 
the  physique  of  the  race — we  are  filled  with  amaze- 
ment at  the  abundance  of  expert  knowledge  of 
priceless  value  which  is  not  being  utilized. 

As  to  what  may  be  called  the  moralization  of 
Science — this  is  a  subject  on  which  only  the  high 
priests  in  the  temple  should  speak,  and  we  shall 
not  do  more  than  recall  the  noble  words  of  one 
of  these.  Helmholtz  writes:  "As  the  highest 
motive  influencing  my  work — though  not  reached 
in  my  early  years — was  the  thought  of  the  civil- 
ized world  as  a  constantly  developing  and  living 
whole,  whose  life,  in  comparison  with  that  of  the 
individual,  appears  as  eternal.  In  the  service  of 
this  eternal  humanity  my  contribution  to  knowl- 
edge, small  as  it  was,  appeared  in  the  light  of  a 
holy  service,  and  the  worker  himself  feels  bound 
by  affection  to  the  whole  human  race,  and  his 
work  is  thereby  sanctified.  This  feeling  all  can 


248      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

theoretically  understand,  but  long  experience  of 
it  alone  can  develop  it  into  a  powerful  and  steady 
impulse." 

In  this  chapter  we  have  used  the  word  utility 
in  the  sense  of  practical  utility,  having  in  other 
chapters  said  enough  to  show  that  Science  can 
justify  itself,  if  necessary,  at  a  higher  court  of 
appeal.  For  Science  is  a  natural  and  necessary 
development  and  discipline  of  Man;  it  supplies 
stimulus  and  raw  material  to  literature  and  art; 
and  it  has  contributed  to  the  store  of  great  ideas 
which  should  always  be  in  the  saddle  and  should 
always  rule  mankind. 

SUMMARY. — Science  is  justified  for  its  own  sake 
as  a  natural  and  necessary  human  activity.  It  has 
groum  out  of  practical  lore  and  always  receives 
fresh  stimulus  by  coming  back  to  practical  problems. 
One  of  the  great  conditions  of  human  progress  is 
the  unceasing  reciprocal  relationship  between  science 
and  occupation.  The  practical  utility  of  the  sciences 
is  so  great  that  there  is  danger  in  exaggerating  utili- 
tarian criteria.  Nothing  is  more  certain  than  the 
fundamental  value  of  "theoretical  science."  But 
while  the  greatest  practical  gains  have  come  from 
the  prosecution  of  "pure  science,"  it  may  be  agreed 
that  Science  should  be  socialized,  for,  after  all,  Sci- 
ence is  for  Life,  not  Life  for  Science.  As  Comte 
said,  "Knowledge  is  Foresight,  and  Foresight  is 
Power." 


REFERENCES  TO  BOOKS 


REFERENCES  TO  BOOKS 


N.B.  —  The  student  cannot  do  better  than  begin  by  reading  the 
various  Introductions  to  the  Sciences  which  this  Library  afford*. 

BACON,  FRANCIS. — Novum  Organum  (1620). 
BAIN,  ALEXANDER. — Logic  (1870). 

BEROSON,  HENRI. — Creative  Evolution.     Translation  (1911). 
This  remarkable  work  deals  in  great  part  with  the  philos- 
ophy of  biology. 
BOUTROUX,  E. — Science  et  Religion  (1909). 

So  far  as  we  know,  the  best  of  the  many  discussions  of  the 
relations  of  Science  and  Religion. 
CAIRO,  JOHN. — Lectures  and  Addresses  (1899).     See  Lecture 

on  The  Progressiveness  of  the  Sciences. 
CASE,  THOMAS. — Scientific  Method  as  a  Mental  Operation, 

in  Lectures  on  the  Method  of  Science  (1906). 
This  valuable  work  contains  a  series  of  lectures  by  leading 
authorities  who  discuss  the  methods  of  the  various  Sciences. 
CLIFFORD,  W.  K.— The  Common  Sense  of  the  Exact  Sciences. 

Also  his  stimulating  Lectures  and  Essays  (1879). 
DRIESCH,  HANS. — Science  and  Philosophy  of  the  Organism, 

2vols.     (1908). 

A  profound  contribution  to  the  philosophy  of  biology. 
FLINT,  R. — Philosophy  as   Scientia  Scientiarum,  and  a  His- 
tory of  the  Classification  of  the  Sciences  (1904). 
A  very  learned  account  of  the  numerous  attempts  to  classify 
knowledge. 

FOSTER,  SIR  MICHAEL.— Presidential  Address  at  the  Meeting 
of  the  British  Association  at  Dover  in  1899.     Report, 
Brit.  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science  (1899). 
A  noteworthy  discourse  on  the  characteristics  of  the  scien- 
tific mood. 

Ml 


252      INTRODUCTION  TO  SCIENCE 

GOTCH,  FRANCIS. — On  Some  Aspects  of  the  Scientific  Method, 

in  Lectures  on  the  Method  of  Science  (1906). 
HILL,  ALEXANDER. — Introduction  to  Science. 

A  wise  and  attractive  little  introduction. 
HOUSSAY,  F. — Nature  et  Sciences  naturelles  (1908). 
HUXLEY,  T.  H. — Collected  Essays,  e.  g.  Method  and  Results, 
Science  and  Education. 

JEVONS,  W.  STANLEY. — The  Principles  of  Science,  a  Treatise 
on  Logic  and  Scientific  Method.     3rd  Ed.  (1879). 

LANKESTER,  SIR  E.  RAY. — The  Kingdom  of  Man  (1906). 
A  powerful  book  showing  what  Science  has  done  and  what 

it  might  at  present  be  doing  for  the  commonwealth  of  Man. 

McDouGALL,  W. — Psycho-Physical  Method,   in   Lectures   on 
the  Method  of  Science  (1906). 

MACH,  E.— Die  Analyse  der  Empfindungen  (1886).    5th  Ed. 

1906. 
A  classic  statement  of  the  view  that  science  is  description. 

MERZ,  J.  T. — A  History  of  European  Thought  in  the  Nine- 
teenth Century.  Vol  i.    Introduction.   Scientific  Thought 
(1896).     Vol.  ii  (1903). 
A  work  of  magistral  scholarship  and  deep  insight. 

MIVART,  ST.  GEORGE. — The  Groundwork  of  Science  (1898). 

MORGAN,  C.  LLOYD. — The  Interpretation  of  Nature  (1905). 
A  fine  introduction  to  the  philosophical  questions  raised 

by  Science. 

NATOHP,  P. — Die  logischen  Grundlagen  der  exakten  Wissen- 
schaften  (1910). 

OSTWALD,  W.— Natural  Philosophy  (1910). 

A  very  important  discussion  of  the  principles  of  chemical 
and  physical  Science. 
OTTO,  R. — Naturalism  and  Religion  (1907). 

A  competent  and  fair-minded  statement  of  the  scientific 
position,  with  an  explanation  of  the  religious. 
PEARSON,    KARL. — The    Grammar    of    Science.      2nd    Ed. 
(1900).     New  Ed.  (1911). 

An  indispensable  and  quite  unique  book. 
PICARD,  EMILE.— La   Science   moderne   et   son   etat    actuel 
(1909). 


REFERENCES  TO  BOOKS          253 

POINCARE',  H. — La  Science  et  I'Hypoth&se  (1909).    La  Valeur 

de  la  Science  (1909). 
POYNTING,  J.  J. — Address,   Section   "A,"  Report  of  British 

Association  for  1889.    Discussion  of  "Laws  of  Nature." 
SHERRINGTON,  C.  S. — Physiology;     its    Scope   and    Method. 

in  Lectures  on  the  Method  of  Science  (1906). 
SPENCEK,  HERBERT. — The    Classification    of    the    Sciences 

(1864). 
STALLO,  J.  B. — The    Concepts    and    Theories    of    Modern 

Physics. 
STRONG,  T.  B. — Scientific   Method   as  Applied   to   History, 

in  Lectures  on  the  Method  of  Science  (1906). 
TAYLOR,  A.  E.     Elements  of  Metaphysics  (1903). 

We  wish  to  express  our  great  indebtedness  to  this  book, 
which  is  remarkable  among  other  qualities  for  its  under- 
standing of  scientific  aims  and  methods. 
THOMSON,  J.  ARTHUR. — The  Bible  of  Nature  (1908).     The 

Progress  of  Science  in  the  Century  (1903). 
TYNDALL,  JOHN. — Fragments   of   Science    (1871).      5th    Ed. 

1876.     Including  the  famous  essay  on  the  scientific  use 

of  the  imagination. 
WARD,  JAMES. — Naturalism     and     Agnosticism.       2     vola- 

(1899).  • 

A  classic  work,  indispensable  to  those  who  would  inquire 
into  the  philosophy  of  Science. 
WHITE,  A.  D.— A  History  of  the  Warfare  of  Science  with 

Theology. 

A  remarkable  book  which  has  had  a  great  influence.    Now 
in  16th  Ed. 


INDEX 


JEschylus,  8 

^Esthetics,  168-169 

./Etiology,  113 

Agassiz,  20,  28 

Agnosticism,  214 

Argon,  65 

Aristotle,  36,  58,  60 

Art  and  science,  166 

Artistic  element  in  science,  167 

Aspects  of  reality,  160-164 

Astronomy,  66,  133,  181,  232 

Baoon,  7,  20,  29,  59,  81,  83,  237, 

246 

Bain,  91 
Bateson,  23 
Beauty,  sense  of,  169 
Behaviour,  evolution  of,  154 
Benzene,  241 

Bergson,  42,  142,  147,  153 
Biology.  105;  aim  of,  53,  109 
Bio-physics,  97 
Boutroux,  215 
Branford,  B.,  32,  168/230 
Brooks.  W.  K.,  22 

Case,  T.,  61,  229 

Causes,  kinds  of,  42 

Cavendish,  65 

Chemistry,  105 

Circulation  of  the  blood,  72;  of 
matter,  175 

Clarke,  Eagle,  67 

Coleridge,  205 

Common  sense,  38 

Comte,  54,  57,  85 

Conflict  between  science  and  re- 
ligion, 208 

Conic  sections,  239 

Conservation  of  energy,  182 

Dalton,  134 

Darwin,  30,  58,  176,  188 
Deduction,  59 
Description,  scientific,  39 


Development,  146 

Driesch,  147 

Dryad  in  the  tree,  184 

Eel,  life-history  of,  149 

Emerson,  189      j 

Emotional  mood,  11 

Energy,  62,  128;  conservation  of, 

182;  transformation  of,  182 
Entelechy,  147 
Entities,  214 
Espinas,  226 
Evolution,  55,  127,  128,  142,  163, 

211 

Experiment,  69 
Explanation,  41 

Facts,  40,  63 

Fairy  tales,  179 

Faraday,  26 

Fechner,  159 

Flint,  Robert,  83,  88,  90 

Forbes,  Edward,  62 

Formulation,  73 

Foster,  Sir  Michael,  15,  18 

Galileo,  59,  209 
ilogy,  113 
jraphy,  120 

186 

Gotch,  42,  73,  76,  183 
Gravitation,  134 

Haddon,  100 

Harvey,  72 

Helmholtz,  100,  247 

Hinks,  66 

Hobbes,  137 

Huxley,  21,  22,  23,  24,  37,  51,  83, 

141,  158,  198 
Hypothesis,  69 

Imagination,  scientific  use  of,  75 
Induction,  59 


255 


256 


INDEX 


James,  William,  193,  215 
Jordan,  D.  S..  176 

Kant,  57,  161 

Kelvin,  Lord,  29,  46,  47.  64,  67, 

74,  76,  77,  242 
Kepler,  239 


Lankester,  Sir  E.  Ray,  208 

Laplace,  213,  240 

Laws  of  Nature,  49 

Life,  abundance  of,  185;    insur- 

gence  of,  185 
Logic  of  science,  58 
Lot«e,  177 

Macdougall,  158,  159 

Man,  primitive,  8 

Marshall,  H.  R.,  169 

Materialism,  212 

Mathematics,  history  of,  228,  229 

Matter,  128, 134;  electrical  theory 

of,  135 

Maxwell,  Clerk,  20,  61,  77,  78 
Mayer,  62 
Measurement,  64 
Mechanistic  theory,  145 
Meredith,  171-172 
Men,  51 
Metaphysics,  126;   sendee  of,  to 

science,  129 
Migration,  67 
Mill,  J.  S.,  60 
Monge,  221 
Morgan,  Lloyd,  140 

Nature,  195;  emotional  relation 
to,  179;  fundamental  impres- 
sions of,  172,  175;  love  of, 
171;  strategy  of,  198;  voices 
of,  206 

Nature-poetry,  179 

Nature-Psalms,  201 

Nebula,  primitive.  141,  162 

Neo-vitalism,  184 

Newton,  61 

Observation,  61 

Order  of  Nature,  174 

Organism,   nature   of,    118,    143, 

145,  152 
Origin  of  living  creatures  upon  the 

earth,  139 


Parasites,  71 
Pasteur,  71,  240 

Pearson,  Karl,  25,  35,  50,  73.  84, 
92,  237 

Ramsay,  Sir.  William,  65 
Rayleigh,  Lord,  64 
Reduction  to  simpler  terms,  46,  68 
Religion,  193;    and  science,  192- 

223;   approaches  to,  208 
Russell,  E.  S.,  149,  151 

Sciences,  abstract,  104;  applied, 
114;  classification  of,  81-123; 
correlation  of,  117;  exact,  107; 
synthetic,  108 

Science,  aim  of,  35-56;  and  feel- 
ing, 188;  and  philosophy,  124- 
165;  and  practical  lore,  225; 
and  religion,  192-223;  applied, 
232;  limitations  of,  134,  205; 
utility  of,  224 

Scientific  method,  57-80 

Scientific  mood,  7-34 

Seasons,  biology  of,  180 

Selection,  natural,  197;  social,  197 

Shipley,  A.  E.,  243 

Siebold,  71 

Smith,  William,  240 

Sociology,  105,  107 

Soul  and  body,  153,  160 

Spencer,  86,  217 

Stephenson,  243,  244 

Struggle  for  existence,  196 

Tait,  P.  G.,  37,  74 
Taylor,  A.  E.,  63,  124,  157,  194 
Technical  education,  237-238 
Theoretical  science,  236 
Thompson,  Silvanus  P.,  29,  47 
Tyndall,  62,  75 

Uniformity  of  Nature,  78 
Utility  of  science,  224-248 

Vitalistic  theory,  145,  147 

Wallace,  234 

Web  of  life,  30,  177,  181 

Weismann,  27 

Weldon,  103 

Whitman,  170 

Wonder,  sense  of,  173,  201 


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